The Journey Home
by GenvieveWoolf
Summary: Is the adventure over? Indy, Mutt, Marion and Ox still have to get home, and Indy may just have his biggest adventure yet trying to piece together a family that should have been solidified long ago. Rated T mainly for animal gore. Plenty of comic relief.
1. Rude Awakening

_By popular demand, I'm writing another Indy-and-Mutt story. I probably had a little too much fun with this first chapter...I admit it's a bit over-the-top. But then, so was Indy IV, so I think I deserve pardoning. :p_

_This is a sequel to my one-shot, "Compromise," but it can stand alone._

_Once again (unfortunately), I do not own Indy, Mutt, Marion or Ox (osr Tarzan, for that matter)._

_If I got any facts on lucuma or Hercules wrong, I apologize. Let me know in a review how I can fix it!_

THE JOURNEY HOME

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One: RUDE AWAKENING

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To say it had been a long day would be the grossest understatement of the century. So as Mutt settled down on the ground near his mother to wait out the night, he said simply, "I'm wiped."

Marion leaned toward him and smoothed his bangs out of his eyes. "Did you lose your comb, honey?"

Somehow it seemed to take less energy to rock his head back and forth than to utter that one syllable.

"No?"

"I'm just too tired," Mutt explained. For once he could fix his hair later.

Marion glanced over at Indy and Oxley before saying quietly, "Are you really mad at me?"

Mutt knew she was referring to the fact that she had lied to him about his parentage—his whole life. "I'm too tired," he admitted.

Marion sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I really am. I should have told you..."

"Mom, don't." Mutt felt around until he found one of her hands and hung on to it. "We can talk about it later, OK? Don't beat yourself up."

She gently planted a kiss on Mutt's forehead. "OK, try to sleep. I love you."

He wanted to say it back. After all, he did still love her. But he made due with squeezing her hand before she let go. The physical pain was bad enough. They could deal with the rest later.

Before he could nod off, Indy came over to say, "Don't do anything crazy during the night, like running off by yourself."

"You wish," Mutt said groggily. "Oh, I get it. You're afraid I'll tell people you got abducted by the aliens."

"I'm more afraid you'll try playing Tarzan again and break your neck."

"I'm telling you, it _worked_ before—I was seriously swinging from tree to tree...you don't believe me, do you?"

"Physics is against you, kid. You said you went from one stationary, straight hanging vine to the next, _down_ a mountainside and you just so happened to time it so that you could land on a moving vehicle?"

Mutt sighed. "Well, that last bit was luck, really. But yeah, that's what I did. And tomorrow, I'll show you."

"You'll do no such thing. I'm not done being a father yet."

"I know...you haven't even started yet!" Mutt sniped.

"Hilarious. Go to sleep."

"That's what I was _trying _to do..." Mutt's grumbling petered out and he stared up at the starry South American sky. As soon as the sun had set, the temperature seemed to drop dramatically. Mutt zipped up his jacket and shoved his hands in the pockets.

.

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When he awoke, Mutt felt much warmer. He turned his head slightly to find that his mother was curled up against his right side. That must mean that on the other side...

_Please, let it be Ox_, Mutt thought. He turned his head to the left. "Oh, no..." he moaned. "No, no, _no_..."

Suddenly, Indy snapped awake. "What?" he said, rather more loudly than necessary. "What's the matter?"

"You were _touching_ me!" Mutt shouted. He rolled onto his side, pulled out his comb and began raking it through his hair. "What's the big idea, anyway?"

Indy shook his head as he turned his eyes heavenward. "You'll live, kid."

Marion and Oxley were now awake (who could sleep through that ruckus?).

"It got really cold last night," Marion said, as if that made everything OK.

"So you decided to slap me in the middle of a parent cootie sandwich?"

"Oh, for the love of..." Indy muttered.

"_I_ happen to have zero cooties," Marion sniffed.

"Can we discuss this like adults?" Indy asked in a tone that suggested he was near the end of his patience. "In case you didn't notice, Ox is on the other side of me. This was not a spontaneous family moment. It was the desire to not freeze."

Mutt smiled maliciously. "There'd have been no danger of us freezing if we'd left yesterday like I said we should."

"We'd have been cold down there too...just not as."

"Anyway, if it wasn't a...a...family thing...how come you stuck me between you two?"

"Well, obviously, we couldn't put your mom next to anyone _except_ you, or you'd have had a fit in the morning...which you had anyway...but that's beside the point. So, that took care of one end—the ends being colder than the middle, of course—and Ox and I argued about who would be the martyr and take the other end until—"

"Until I told them to shut up and settle down," Marion finished.

"And that's how the chips fell."

"Really." Mutt wasn't entirely convinced.

Oxley shook his head. "No, actually. I knocked your father down and that settled the matter."

"Come back to earth, Ox," Indy said. "You couldn't knock me down, even in our school days. Come to think of it, _especially_ in our school days..."

Mutt was starting to feel a headache coming on. "Why's it so cold at night anyway? It's not like it's winter."

"Welcome to the southern hemisphere," Indy said. "Back home, it's spring. We were tilted toward the sun. Down here, summer is ending. We're tipped away from the sun. And being on a mountain doesn't help, of course."

"I knew that." He did, too. He just hadn't remembered. It was so annoying having a know-it-all teacher around. "So, do we have anything to eat?"

"Your monkey friends didn't bring you anything? I'm shocked."

"Oh, honestly," Oxley said, getting to his feet. "Let's not sit here griping at each other. Let's go find something."

And of course it was Oxley who did find something.

"What is it?" Mutt asked, studying the yellowish green-skinned fruit in his hand.

"It's lucuma," Oxley replied.

"Do you peel it?"

"Try."

Mutt found that the peel came away without too much difficulty and he tried a nibble of the dark yellow middle. "Hey...this is pretty good."

Oxley nodded. "I thought you'd like it."

"It's like...like...um...hmm."

"Like nothing you've had before?" Oxley suggested.

"Yeah."

"Fortunate we're here now, when they're ripe."

Mutt ate three of the small fruits before he felt reasonably satiated. The others ate several as well, while they walked through the jungle on their way down the mountain.

"You shouldn't have let me try this, Ox," Marion said. "When we get home, I'll be craving it."

"Great," Indy muttered. "Bring me the golden apples of the Hesperides."

Marion laughed.

For some reason, Mutt felt irritated. "Golden apples?"

"It's a Greek legend," Indy said.

"Thanks, that helps a lot."

"Tell him the story," said Marion, smiling at Indy.

"Oh, he doesn't want to hear it."

Mutt said nothing. Indy might be right...he wasn't sure he did want to hear it.

"Well, I do," Marion persisted.

Indy groaned. "All right. But only because I'm bored. Mutt, you've heard of Hercules, surely?"

"Yes. Strong cat. Wore a lion skin or something."

"Right. Well, there was this king, Eurystheus, who got to be king because his mom induced labor early—otherwise his relative Hercules would have been born first and gotten the crown.

"Ambitious mom," Mutt commented. "Tough break for the Herk."

"You might say that. Well, his bad luck streak wasn't over. He had a wife and three kids—"

"Oh yeah, _real_ bad luck."

Indy sighed. "Will you let me tell the story?"

"Sure."

"And he went crazy one day... thanks to the goddess Hera, who hated him... and killed his whole family."

"Ouch."

"So when he came out of it he was miserable and went to the Oracle at Delphi to figure out how to redeem himself."

"And it told him to dream on, right?"

"It told him he'd have to perform twelve tasks for Eurystheus. The guy he hated more than ten-day-old Brussels sprouts."

"That must o' rattled his cage. So let me guess, the golden apples of the Whatsits was one of the tasks?"

"You got it."

"What's that got to do with Lucuma?"

Indy looked ready to quit, but Marion nudged him and gave him a smile.

"You want to hear about all twelve tasks, or just the apples?"

Mutt looked around at the dense jungle they were very slowly making their way through. "Something tells me we've got time for all twelve."

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_Not the best stopping place, I admit. But "I'm wiped," as the kid said. :p Please leave a review if you'd like to see this continued. Or just to be nice._


	2. Swords and Hinds

_In this chapter I have a reference to my one-shot, "The Little One." It is helpful, but not necessary, to read that story as background for this one. Thanks! :)_

_Remember, I don't own these people...yet. I'm trying to earn enough to buy the franchise. *winks boldly*_

_Don't forget to review!_

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Two: SWORDS AND HINDS

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Truth be told, Indy liked mythology. And it was nice to have something uncontroversial to talk to his son about. Although, Mutt did act a bit touchy whenever family-related issues came up in the story. That was only to be expected, really. Considering Mutt's position. And his age.

"Technically," Indy told him, "Hercules was supposed to do only ten tasks. But like a competent adventurer, he took a partner with him."

"A sidekick," Mutt commented.

"Right. And Eurystheus said that wasn't fair, so one or two of the completed tasks didn't count because he got help. So he ended up doing twelve."

"Oh well. He was young and crazy-strong, right?"

"Right. The first task was to kill the Nemean lion..."

"Hey," Mutt interrupted, "how old was Herk supposed to be when this started?"

"Sources disagree. Some fanatics will tell you he was eighteen, but that doesn't make much sense, considering he'd been married with three children before. That's extreme, even for Greeks. Other mythologists think it was some other lion he killed at eighteen, and that that's where he got his lion-skin cape from."

"But I bet the skin really came from that Nubian lion, or whatever."

"_Nemean_, and it's just a story. This didn't really happen."

"I mean in the original."

Indy smiled a little. "Well, that's what I think," he admitted.

They walked on through the jungle. Indy caught Mutt looking up at the hanging vines once in a while, and he knew the kid was thinking he could be traveling much faster right now, but there was no way he was going to entertain the idea. The Hercules story would have to be enough to pass the time for him.

After the story of the first task, Mutt said, "So if it _was_ the Nemean lion's skin he wore on his back, that means Eurystheus must have had a change of heart or something to let Hercules keep it."

"I don't think he ever wanted the skin in the first place," Indy answered. "He was hoping Hercules would get killed trying to get it."

"Yeah, I guess. Hey, look...wreckage."

Up ahead was a clearing with many scorched trees and pieces of scrap metal which had once been part of Dr. Spalko's convoy. A rough road stretched away through the jungle beyond.

"About time," Indy said. "We can follow this trail out of here."

Suddenly, Mutt bolted for the edge of the clearing.

"Mutt! What are you doing?"

"Hang on..." Mutt leaned over some shrubbery and hauled out a very battered case. "I think this is..." he struggled with the one unbroken clasp for a moment and then whooped as the case came open. "Yes! It is!"

Indy and Marion looked at each other.

"Well, what is it?" Oxley asked, voicing the impatience that they all felt.

Mutt turned the case around. "It's Dr. Spalko's backup rapiers."

Sure enough, two long, thin swords remained in the case.

"Nice find, Junior," Indy said. "Too bad the case is in such bad shape, but then, I wouldn't want to carry it anyway."

"So, I can keep 'em?"

"I don't see why not. The previous owner sure doesn't need them. At least, she won't be coming back for them."

The teenager's face lit up. "That's boss. These are really great quality."

Indy leaned toward Marion and muttered, "I take it 'boss' is a good thing?"

"Definitely," Marion grinned back.

"Unreal," Mutt breathed as he tried swinging one of the blades.

"Um, I hate to interrupt," Indy called to him, "but we should keep moving."

"Yeah, OK..." Mutt fastened the superfluous buckle at the bottom of his jacket and stuck the sword through it. "Hmm...that's not going to work, is it?"

Indy shook his head. "It's not far enough to the side. And you'll probably end up slicing off part of your jacket...or worse."

Mutt looked back at the case. "Looks like she didn't keep a spare scabbard. I'll have to carry it, I guess. Dang, I'll have to leave the other one."

For some reason—he didn't stop to think why until it was too late—Indy said, "I'll carry the other one for you."

"You will?" Mutt looked shocked.

_Why did I say that?_ Indy thought. But he nodded.

"Wow, thanks, man." Mutt eagerly removed the second sword from the case. "Think fast, Daddy-O."

Somehow, Indy managed to catch the sword's handle as it sailed toward him in a graceful arc. He was very glad that Mutt understood the blade's aerodynamics so well. "You and I are going to have a talk about throwing sharp objects," he said sternly.

"I know, along with 'no playing ball in the house,' right?"

Indy would have said more, but he remembered that he and Mutt had sort of agreed not to talk about the parental role, so he simply led the others down the road left by the Russians' equipment.

"So," Mutt said a minute or two later, "what was Hercules' second task?"

"The hydra, right?" said Marion. "I like the hydra."

Indy grimaced. "You would."

"Is that that many-headed thing?" Mutt asked, sure he had heard of this creature sometime in his literature class.

"Yes," said Oxley. "And if you cut off one head, two will grow back in its place."

"That's great."

"Not if you're supposed to kill it," Indy said.

"So, he stabbed it in the heart instead, right?" Mutt asked.

Indy blinked. "You know, you should have been Hercules' sidekick...you have a much more direct solution than what Iolaus came up with. He suggested burning the stump of the head so it couldn't grow back."

"That's kookie! How could he get close enough to burn it? Did he have Illius distract _all_ the other heads while he did that?"

"I don't know...and it's Iolaus, not Illius."

"Whatever."

"Anyway, since the last head was impenetrable, he ripped it off with his hands. Although some people say he dipped a sword in the hydra's poison blood and that made it so he could cut the last head off."

"Load of bull," Mutt retorted. "The thing would be immune to its own poison."

Indy smiled. "Nice to know you've learned from your experience with scorpions."

"Yeah, well...I do remember some facts."

"So, one way or another he killed the thing. But because Iolaus helped him—"

"The hydra does not count," Mutt announced in a kingly tone, swinging his sword in front of him for effect.

"Right."

"And the next task?"

"To catch the Ceryneian hind."

Mutt laughed.

"It's not what you're thinking," Indy snapped. "A hind is a doe. And the Ceryneian hind was a supernatural, antler-bearing, faster-than-a-speeding-arrow doe."

"How'd he catch it?"

"He sneaked up on it while it was sleeping."

"He's a good sport."

"Well, he didn't want to hurt the thing—it was owned by the goddess Artemis. If he'd done anything to it, she'd have been pretty angry."

"Artemis is my favorite Greek goddess," Marion commented. "She knows how to take care of herself. And she has an excellent twin brother, Apollo."

"In one legend," Indy reflected, "Apollo sent a scorpion to protect Artemis from Orion, who was trying to seduce her."

"A scorpion, huh?" said Mutt, frowning. He was none too fond of the sharp-tailed creatures. "Orion, like the constellation, Orion?"

"That's the one."

"Huh. And I used to like him. So, what happened to the...uh, hind?"

"Hercules took it back to Eurystheus and said he could have it if he came out and took it himself."

"Did he go?"

"Yes."

"Did he get pounded?"

"No. Hercules set the hind down and it took off back to Artemis. Hercules told Eurystheus that he just wasn't quick enough. So that was that."

Mutt pondered in silence for a while, then said, "Any plans for lunch?"

"Not as yet. If you see anything that looks edible, let us know."

Mutt pointed off into the trees. "Constrictors are edible, right? They're not poisonous."

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_Is the mythology taking up too much of the story? I'm trying to use it to strategically show how Mutt thinks and how his and Indy's outlook on things compare and contrast, but if you'd rather have less dialogue and more action, shout out in a review and I'll try to liven things up a bit._


	3. Constricting

_Anonymous, I think you'll get both the action and the angst in this chapter. :p Thanks for the review!_

_Chalicity, thanks for the support. The mythology will reappear in the next chapter. :)_

_Again, I encourage you to read "Compromise," but it's not necessary._

_Mutt, Indy, Marion and Ox are not mine...the boa constrictor IS!_

_Remember I love reviews! :D_

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CONSTRICTING

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"What?" Mutt asked, seeing the horrified look on Indy's face.

"I am not ingesting any part of one of those..." Indy was moving away from the coiled boa in obvious terror.

"What?" Mutt said again. "I'm hungry, and fruit is nice and all, but I'd like some meat. Who's with me?"

Oxley was laughing.

"Um, Mutt," Marion said slowly, "you remember that Indy..."

"Yeah, yeah. He's scared of snakes. If I kill it, it can't hurt him, right? And like I said, they're not poisonous."

"They can still bite," Indy said shakily. "I don't want you to take another step toward that thing, you hear me?"

Mutt scowled and took a step toward the snake.

"Henry Walton Jones the third!" Indy roared.

"It's not gonna bite me. It's a boa, not a cobra."

"Do you know how much those things can swallow—whole?"

"Look at it. It's not even...eight feet. More like six. I don't think I'd fit inside it."

"They can unhinge their jaws and their ribs are free-floating so they can expand..."

"You sure know a lot about them for being scared of them," Mutt said, studying the docile snake. "Hey, there's a little bulge a little way down its neck...I think it ate recently. Maybe I can get whatever it is out, and you won't have to eat snake after all."

Ox laughed harder.

"That is disgusting," Marion said sternly. "Now come away from there."

Mutt moved in so he was only a few feet from the tree branch the snake was hanging from. He was just trying to decide on the right angle for decapitating it when it lifted its head.

Mutt lifted his sword.

The boa's head darted forward and Mutt felt the impact of the snakes mouth hitting his blade, though the motion was too quick for him to follow with his eyes.

The snake pulled its head back in, hissing.

"Mutt, get out of there," Indy roared.

Mutt shifted his weight back a bit and looked into the snake's glimmering brown eyes. He knew he had only a split second before it struck again.

All sound seemed to have been sucked away. Mutt tucked his elbow in, tilting his sword to the right. The snake's head came toward him as Mutt brought the rapier's edge to the left again and forward in a sweeping motion.

The liquid eyes were just inches from Mutt's face when the snake's head parted company with its body. Then Mutt felt an arm around his chest, hauling him backward as if he were a tiny child.

Once he was back in the middle of the road, he was spun around like a top and his shoulders were held in a vice-like grip.

"Did you not hear me?" Indy exclaimed in a dangerous voice.

At that moment, Mutt decided something: Indy could be very scary when he chose. "I—I heard you," he stammered.

"So, what did you think you were doing?"

"I'm not used to taking orders, OK?" Mutt shouted defensively. "And anyway, I killed it, didn't I?"

Indy released Mutt—shoved him away, rather.

Marion soon replaced him, taking Mutt in her arms much more gently. "Are you OK?" she asked him.

Mutt could tell that Marion had been very scared for him, and that made him feel guilty. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said. "Sorry I scared you."

"You really should start listening to your father," she said quietly, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Listen to him talking about how scary snakes are?"

"Mutt, please."

He looked at the ground.

Indy had wandered off a few paces, obviously fuming. Ox was out of Mutt's range of vision.

"Where's Ox?"

"Over here," Ox called from behind him. "I thought it best to make sure the thing is dead—which it is. We'll need a knife if we're going to get any meat off it."

Mutt wasn't sure he was hungry anymore, but he got out his knife and took it to Ox. "Ever eaten snake before?" he asked.

"A couple of times. It tastes like chicken, of course."

"Right."

Mutt let Ox do all the skinning and so forth, since he had had little practice himself. When they emerged from the bushes, Marion was tending a small fire. Indy was standing a few yards away leaning against a tree, his back toward the fire.

They roasted bits of meat on green sticks. Mutt thought the consistency was a bit strange, but the taste wasn't bad at all.

Indy did not come to join them. He continued to stand as he had before.

Mutt glanced at Marion. "You think I should take him some?" he asked.

"I doubt he'll eat it," she said. "Try at your own risk."

That didn't sound too inviting. But Mutt didn't relish the idea of tramping along in an uncomfortable silence when they had been conversing so genially before. And he knew he'd have to talk to Indy sooner or later.

With a deep breath, Mutt pulled his roasting stick away from the fire and stood up. The back of that brown leather jacket looked pretty imposing, but he walked toward it with determination.

When he was within speaking distance, Mutt cleared his throat. "Um, Pops?"

Indy sighed and turned slightly toward him so Mutt could see half of his face. At least he didn't look ready to kill anymore.

"I, um...do you want some chicken?"

"Chicken?" Indy repeated, raising his eyebrows.

Mutt shrugged. "Well, before you wanted us to call it a rope, so...this time I thought it might be helpful to call it chicken."

Indy gingerly took the stick from him, but he didn't try the snake meat yet. "Listen, kid...I'm sorry I shouted at you. You had me really worried, that's all."

"I'm sorry I shouted at _you_," Mutt answered, studying the ground once more. Funny how interesting the ground could be at times. "I know I got cocky. It just gets under my skin sometimes, the way you've been...taking charge, I guess. I find it kind of...constricting."

"Well, I certainly didn't feel in charge when that thing was trying to bite you."

"I guess when you grabbed me, you got pretty close to your phobia there," Mutt said, realizing that Indy must have been rushing forward just as the snake's head was coming toward him.

"I thought you were going to get mauled at the very least."

"Almost did. I'll never assume a critter's sleepy again."

"It's a _wild animal_. If you get in its space, its instinct is to fight back."

"All right—I couldda been creamed. I get it."

Indy looked at the kabob in his hand. "Chicken," he muttered. "Well, here goes." He took a bite and chewed quickly.

"What do you think?" Mutt asked when he saw Indy swallow.

"I think you find chickens in the _strangest_ places these days."

Mutt laughed in relief. "Peruvian pullet. Come back and eat with us?"

"If you insist."

Indy patted Mutt's shoulder as they turned back toward the fire together. Mutt knew he was forgiven.

"You converted him?" Marion exclaimed when she saw Indy munching the snake meat. "You actually got _Indiana Jones_ to eat—"

"Don't say it," Mutt warned.

"That's right," Indy said with a nod. He held up his stick and prepared to take another bite. "This, my dear lady, is chicken."

Once again, Oxley's laugh rang through the jungle.

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_Did you enjoy the read? Please leave a review! I still have things planned for this story, as long as people stay interested. Oh, and if you've ever tried snake meat, tell me what it's like—I was pretty much guessing. :p_


	4. Fire and Water

_Someone told me they thought I was close enough in describing the taste of snake. :p Thanks for that._

_Everyone seems to have liked the last chapter. Thanks so much for your reviews! I hope you like this one too (even though it doesn't have as much action!) and please review when you're done. It's what I live for. :p_

_Indy, Mutt, Marion and Oxley are not mine. We're just friends._

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FIRE AND WATER

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When the others had roasted some extra meat to save for their next meal, Indy led the way down the rough road through the jungle. He tried to calculate how long it would take them to get back to the place the Russians had made camp, but it was difficult to say. He wasn't sure exactly how fast the convoy of trucks had traveled. His best estimate was that they might reach the site by sunset the next day, but not before.

Marion walked beside Indy now, which naturally prompted Mutt to walk with Ox. The two had a lot to catch up on, Indy knew, but he found himself wishing his son would converse with him and Marion. Slowly, he began to realize that he was feeling a familiar old emotion toward Oxley...but he had never had that emotion because of any teen-aged boy before: jealousy.

Mutt was _his_ son. So why was it Ox that had been there to play surrogate father and be the source of fatherly affection? Indy knew that this train of thought could only make him resentful toward Marion for not telling him about Mutt sooner, so he told himself to snap out of it.

Some time later, they came on a small mountain stream that crossed their path. The trucks had driven right through it, but it was wide enough that pedestrians would have to jump it.

"Good. Water," Mutt commented.

Indy put an arm out to stop him. "Hold on a minute. Let's make sure it's reasonably clean."

For once, being far from a town was in their favor. There were no chemicals to pollute the stream, and people did not come to bathe in it each day. A little gravel ran through the stream, but Indy showed Mutt how to cup his hands and wait for the gravel to settle to the bottom.

"Tastes better than tap water," Mutt said, smiling a little.

Ox, being his sentimental self, began to chant, "Far off from these, a slow and silent stream,/ Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls/ Her watery labyrinth, whereof who drinks/ Forthwith his former state and being forgets—"

"Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain," Indy finished.

"Is that from..._Paradise Lost?"_ Mutt asked.

Ox grinned at him and nodded. "So, you were awake when I read that to you?"

"Well, I'm not sure about that part," Mutt laughed. "But it sounded like the dull-and-dreamy mix of Milton."

Indy remembered Mutt saying that Ox's voice was "better than a glass of warm milk" for getting to sleep. Somehow he felt cheated.

"If everyone's had enough, we should move on," he said. He jumped the stream quite easily—for an "old man"—and the others followed him.

To his surprise, Mutt walked beside him.

"So, what did Hercules have to do for his fourth task?" Mutt asked.

"You're not tired of it yet?"

"It's better than Milton."

Indy smiled. "Coming from a well-read individual, that's a real compliment."

"So, number four? To capture the Sea King of Atlantis?"

"Not quite. To capture the Erymanthian Boar."

"Well, I was close."

"Hercules went to get advice from this centaur to find out how to catch the thing—"

"Those are those half-horse, half-people things?"

"Right. And one named Chiron told him he could catch the boar if he drove it into deep snow. So that's what he ended up doing—"

"Just a moment," Ox interrupted. "Aren't you forgetting the centaurs' drunken revels?"

Indy rolled his eyes. "This is the condensed version."

"Drunken revels?" Mutt asked, sounding more interested than he had in some time.

"I don't remember this part," Marion put in.

"Your dad probably skipped it, too," Indy muttered. "But if I must."

"Of course you must," Ox insisted. "It's a key turning point in Hercules' life."

"Fine. While Hercules was sitting in the centaur's cave, he got them to open this very special wine. Well, apparently centaurs can't hold their liquor to save their lives, and they all got completely drunk and attacked. Hercules shot poisoned arrows at them. His friend Pholus was curious enough to pick up one of the arrows and accidentally stabbed himself."

"Boy, he was low on the jets, wasn't he?" Mutt said.

"Um...yeah.... So then Chiron got hit by a stray arrow, but he was immortal, so it didn't kill him. But it gave him so much pain that he didn't want to live with it. So he offered to take the place of this guy named Prometheus who was being tortured in Tartarus. That's part of the underworld."

"Kind of like hell?"

"Kind of, yeah. So there was this eagle that was in charge of torturing him, and Hercules shot it—"

"You'd think he'd have learned not to be so hasty with his arrows. And did Hercules have to go down to the underworld to do that? Or can his bow shoot through dimensions?"

Indy shrugged. "I don't remember. But the crux of the matter was that Chiron gave his immortality to Hercules."

"Very hip. So now he's really strong, the son of a god, has an impenetrable lion skin, _and_ he's immortal. Bet Eurystheus wasn't too happy about it."

"Probably not. But Eurystheus, being the under-estimator that he was, didn't expect Hercules to succeed. So when he showed up with the boar, the king hid."

Mutt laughed. "He hid?"

"He was scared of the boar."

"So, he asked Herk to bring him something he's afraid of? What a big tickle."

"Well, he wasn't too bright. Must have been because he was born two months early."

"Two months—is that even possible?"

"It's a myth, remember?"

"Yeah, I know, but still..." Mutt chopped at a low-hanging tendril with his sword. "Say...are you any good at fencing?"

"Me? Not so much. Guns, yes. Bullwhip, yes. Sword... not really."

"It's not too hard," Marion said from behind them. "Like dancing, almost."

Mutt rolled his eyes. "Mom... come _on_...."

"He let me try with a practice foil a little," Marion went on. "It was fun."

"Really? I couldn't tell you were having fun. Mostly you were yelling about being careful not to break anything, and how I was going too fast for you."

"Well..."

Indy smiled at Mutt, picturing those two crossing swords. "I don't know...I can see how that could be fun."

"You want to try sometime?" Mutt asked, not looking at him. "Just to pass the time? I mean, I should know it's not a very practical skill to pick up, but..."

"But you never know when it could come in handy," Indy said. "I don't see why not."

They were silent a long time after that. Occasionally, Indy paused to confirm with Ox that they were following the most direct course back to civilization. Beyond that, they conversed little.

About mid-afternoon Mutt said, "I think we should stop if we find more water—we don't want to have to find a good camping spot in the dark, right?"

"Right," Indy said. He wondered what had prompted Mutt to think in this direction. Quietly, so the others couldn't hear, he said, "Are you getting tired, son?"

"Don't call me—" Mutt started to say. Then he took a deep breath. "Please, don't call me that. And yeah, actually. I am tired. I'm not used to walking all over creation like this, and I'm pretty sore from... everything that happened yesterday. And sleeping on the ground."

Indy nodded. "We'll stop soon, I promise. I want to get us back to civilization as soon as possible, though. Most of us could use medical attention of one kind or another. We'll be very lucky if none of our various cuts is infected."

Mutt ran the fingers of one hand over the raised scab on his cheek. "I've been kind of wondering about this one," he said. "It doesn't hurt too bad, but it does when I touch it."

"How did that one happen?"

"Compliments of Spalko."

"Well, at least we can be sure it was a clean cut. But you'll be less likely to have a scar if we can get it attended to soon."

"I washed it in the stream back there...was that a bad idea?"

"I don't know," Indy admitted. "It's pretty well closed over, so it probably didn't hurt anything. We drank the water anyway, so if there was anything too bad in it, we'll be feeling it later."

"Yeah, probably."

Nearly an hour later they stopped again. Mutt had heard the sound of running water, and the stream turned out to be only a little way off the path. Indy started another fire with the flint and steel he always carried in an inside pocket. Finding dry tinder was difficult, but at least it was something that could keep them all occupied.

As darkness began to settle around them Indy said, "I think someone should be awake through the night—to tend the fire and watch for wild animals."

The others agreed.

"I'll watch first," Mutt offered.

"I thought you were tired."

"Yeah, but I'd rather get it out of the way and pile up my Z's uninterrupted."

"All right, then. I'll take second shift, so wake me after two hours, all right?"

"Sure...but I don't have a watch. How will I know when it's been two hours?"

Indy removed his wristwatch, which was fortunately waterproof. "Here. We'll pass it on to the next in line."

"I'll go third," said Marion.

"I suppose that gives me the dawn shift," said Ox. "How kind."

Indy made sure that tonight he bedded down next to Ox on the opposite side of the fire from Mutt and Marion. He didn't need to give the boy any more reason to be mad at him. He put his hat over his face and tried to shut out the subtle noises of the jungle, and above all to not. think. about. snakes.

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_That's it for now—more soon, probably. :) Please review if you enjoyed this chapter!_


	5. Hero

_Anonymous, I wish I knew your username so I could thank you a little more personally for your great review! :) Yes, I think the jealousy is a realistic factor, and I'm so glad you approve._

_Thanks for everyone's support so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter._

.

HERO

.

Mutt enjoyed tending the campfire, though at one point he nearly put it out when he piled more sticks on top of it. He was terrified that he would have to wake Indy up to get it going again—that would be so humiliating. But by knocking some of the larger sticks off and blowing on the little bed of coals he finally got the flames back to health.

A few times he heard strange noises in the dark. He told himself that it was probably just monkeys.

When his two hours were finally up, he walked around the low-burning campfire to wake Indy.

"Hey...wake up," he said softly, not wanting to wake Oxley, who was just beyond Indy. He got no response. "Um...Professor?" He still didn't feel comfortable calling Indy "Dad," but the formal titles felt awkward now, too. And after the snake incident, Mutt hated to employ any of the sarcastic terms he had been using lately. "Dr. Jones?"

Frustrated, Mutt leaned closer and said in a loud whisper, "Professor, you're late for class!"

Indy started and opened his eyes. "What? What time is it?"

"Time for you to keep watch," Mutt responded. "Time for me to go to sleep."

"Oh." Indy sat up and blinked sleepily.

Mutt walked back around the fire. He glanced over to the place they had propped the swords against a tree so they could find them in the morning. Maybe sometime soon he could give Indy a fencing lesson. That would be interesting.

Just then, Mutt heard a strange, staccato sound. Like a light drum beat, but irregular. He turned just in time to see a long-legged creature leap over Ox's sleeping form.

"What the..." Mutt said. But before he could get out another syllable, a second animal materialized out of the darkness beyond the dim firelight.

"Get down!" Indy shouted.

Mutt immediately moved to a crouch, but he couldn't take his eyes off the scene before him.

Indy had stepped between this new creature and Mutt, and now it slammed into him. It was a huge cat of some kind. It clawed with its hind legs, its teeth searching for a grip on Indy's shoulder as they wrestled on the ground.

Mutt saw Indy reaching toward his bullwhip, though he couldn't imagine what good it would do at such close quarters.

"Indy!" Marion screamed.

Her loud cry snapped Mutt out of his stupor. He darted forward and grabbed the bullwhip. He had never cracked a whip in his life, but it took no experience to bring the handle down on the cat's head.

The predator let out an unearthly yowl that would have sent Mutt scurrying away if he hadn't been so intent on carrying out his plan. He reached in, slipped the whip's handle under the cat's head and grasped it on the other side. Then he began tightening the loop.

"Get out of here, kid!" Indy grunted as he struggled to push the cat off himself.

But Mutt wasn't about to let go now. He pulled the ends of the whip against each other, cutting off the cat's air supply.

The creature began trying to wriggle away from them now. Mutt was afraid that if it got loose it would turn on them again, rather than running. He felt a sharp sting in his leg as the cat turned toward him, claws flying.

Indy was struggling to get his legs under him. He reached around the writhing mass of fur-covered sinew and Mutt felt his switchblade leave his pocket.

The familiar click sounded in the dark and there was a tiny flash of steel as Indy brought the blade up under the cat's chest.

The creature's yowl contained much less energy this time.

Mutt hauled on the bullwhip with all his might. The cat's struggles slowed to a stop. Then he felt Indy pulling at his wrists.

"Mutt, stop. Let go. It's dead."

"It's all right, honey," came Marion's voice.

Mutt stared down at his hands as if they belonged to someone else. Slowly he told them to relax, and even more slowly, they obeyed.

Ox was building up the fire, and in its growing glow Mutt saw that his hands were bright red. They felt like they were burning.

"Sit back here," Indy directed.

Mutt felt his mother pulling him back gently until his head rested in her lap. "I'm OK—" he started.

"Stay still and stay quiet," Indy snapped.

Mutt thought his breathing sounded unusually loud, but he couldn't seem to quiet it. Then he felt Indy touch his right thigh and he gasped louder than ever.

"Easy," Indy said.

Marion stroked Mutt's face. "You're going to be all right," she whispered.

"These scratches are pretty deep," Indy said. "We need to get them cleaned and bound up."

Mutt heard some rustling; then Marion handed her vest to Indy. "Use this."

"I'll need to get some water from the stream," Indy told her as he used Mutt's knife to cut a piece off the vest.

"Let Ox go—you're hurt, too."

Oxley appeared at Indy's shoulder and took the piece of cloth from him.

"Are you OK?" Mutt asked Indy shakily.

"Yeah...thanks to you, Herk." Indy half-smiled. "You stunned it and strangled it—just like a hero."

Mutt was shocked to realize that Indy was right. He had dealt with the big cat in the same way Hercules had killed the Nemean Lion. "Wow. Yeah. But Iolaus didn't help Hercules out with a switchblade."

"Well, if he'd been smart, he'd have had one along."

Mutt sighed and closed his eyes, trying to relax. He wasn't sure how much time passed before Ox came back from the stream.

Indy ripped Mutt's pant leg open further to begin cleaning his scratches. "Ox," Indy said quietly, "back a ways by the trail, there was a peppertree—you know what they look like?"

Ox nodded. "I have spent a good deal of time in these forests, Henry."

"As soon as it's light enough, I need you to go find it. It's less than a furlong away, I'm sure; on the right side of the trail. I need some oleoresin to put on these scratches."

"Daylight's a good way off," Ox commented. "I could probably find it by scent in the dark."

"I can't let you do that," Indy said firmly. "We've had enough near-casualties tonight."

"He's right, Ox," Marion agreed. "We need to stick together and stay near the fire."

"I shouldn't have let it burn so low," Mutt moaned, trying to ignore the excruciating stinging in his leg.

Marion shushed him and petted his hair.

"It's not your fault a Jaguar's prey decided to run through our camp," Indy told him. "The thing was panicking—I think it was wounded already. It wasn't running strong."

Mutt winced and let his breath out in a stuttering stream as he felt Indy tying a strip of cloth securely around his leg.

"OK, hero," Indy murmured, "that's the worst of it. I know it's not going to be easy, but you need to try to sleep now."

If Indy hadn't sounded so sincere, Mutt would have retorted that not even a hero could sleep after something like that. But as it was, he decided to try.

Marion scooted out from under his head and laid it down on something smooth and soft. When Mutt turned his head he recognized the texture against his face: leather. Indy's jacket.

As he struggled to concentrate on getting to sleep and to _not_ think about the pain in his leg, Mutt heard Indy's and Marion's voices on the edge of his consciousness.

"Are you going to let me help you this time, or will you insist that I not touch you?"

"I've got it, Marion. I can tend it myself—_ow."_

"Oh, let me look at it. _Indy!_ For heaven's sake..."

Then he lost track of everything around him and fell into an uneasy sleep.

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_Don't forget to review! Thanks for reading. :D I'll try not to keep you waiting too long._


	6. More than One Way

_Thanks, Ellen! :D I love your reviews because you tell specific things that you liked. That's really encouraging to the author (moi)._

_Kat, I had already been thinking of having Mutt mention something about that—so you got your wish. :)_

_Ecri, thank you for your observant review. I'll take a dozen fans like you. I like your name, btw._

_Thanks for your support too, Mrs. Darcy and everyone else following the story. __You rock!_

_Indy, Marion, Mutt and Ox are not mine. The jaguar __is__. X)_

_I have another hint at my one-shot "Compromise" in here, so if you're thinking "When did they say __that__?" that's where. :p_

.

MORE than ONE WAY

.

Indy was glad Mutt had been too out of it to notice how badly the jaguar's hind claws had torn up his rib cage and stomach. Marion had noticed, of course. And she hadn't learned to leave well enough alone, either. But she had finally backed off and let him sleep while she took her watch—even though it was technically his turn.

He didn't wake up again until dawn was breaking somewhere beyond the jungle and the dim, black shapes around him were turning the pastel shades of their usual colors.

"Henry," Oxley said quietly from his place by the fire, "if you're sufficiently awake, I'll go find that peppertree now."

Indy nodded and his fellow professor headed back the way they had come. He leaned back against his pillow—the back of the jaguar's neck. The thing was becoming stiff in rigor mortis, but the fur was soft and the body was still a bit warm.

Last night's development certainly put a hole in his plans to be back to civilization within two or three days. He and Mutt would not be able to walk very quickly. It was almost enough to make him want to give up and wait for the rescue team. But no one knew where they were. He suspected that the Russian government would be able to find them quicker than his own could.

_Bumbling idiots,_ he thought bitterly.

His wounds were no longer a searing, impossible-to-ignore pain. Now they were more like a dull, whining throb. Something he could shove to the back of his mind if he tried hard enough. He slowly pushed himself to a sitting position with the semi-solid body of the jaguar at his back. Between the cat and the fire he had stayed warm enough without his jacket, but now that the former was losing its heat he moved closer to the latter.

Marion and Mutt were still asleep when Ox got back from the peppertree, so Indy began treating his own wounds while he waited.

"How soon do you think you and the boy will be able to travel?" Ox asked softly.

"I don't know. If I were on my own, I'd just keep moving like we have been. But since I have a son who shouldn't be traveling that fast, not to mention a woman who will not allow _me_ to travel that fast, it might be better if we just spend most of the day here."

"My thoughts are the same. We have water here. Best not to move on until we're sure we can go a good piece before we stop again."

Marion stirred then. Indy braced himself. Sure enough, the moment she was fully awake, she was back in full mother hen mode.

"Oh, you're up. Do you feel any better this morning?"

"Yes."

She went on as if he hadn't said anything. "Those look terrible! Do you need some help with that stuff?"

"No."

Again, she ignored him. She stepped around the campfire and knelt beside him. "Now, you just hold still and let me put that on for you."

Indy felt like buttoning his ragged shirt over his wounds and crossing his arms. She'd never be able to get at him that way. But such a reaction would be childish. "Look, just take it easy, will you?" he pleaded. "Just put a tiny bit on each one. That's all it needs and I want to make sure there's plenty left to treat the kid, OK?"

"All right! You can be such a baby sometimes."

"You can be such a—_pain!"_ he yelped as Marion spread the resin on an especially deep cut.

"Well, hold still."

"I _was."_

"Have you two been arguing all night?" came Mutt's groggy voice.

Marion turned a smile on him. "Of course not, honey. And we're not arguing now. Your dad has some...stuff to put on those scratches."

Mutt sighed heavily.

"Uh, Marion," Indy whispered, "ix-nay on-ay 'ad-day' for now, OK?"

"Y-whay?" she demanded in just as quiet a whisper. "He'll have to get used to it sooner or later won't he?"

Indy felt uncomfortable, and he was sure it registered on his face. He was in a very awkward situation considering his rekindled affection for Marion and the confusing defensive stance his son was taking up. "Maybe, but..."

"I see. 'Maybe.' I guess some things don't change."

"Listen! Utt-may and I sort of agreed not to discuss the amily-fay thing until we're back home. Understand?"

"Oh." Marion frowned. "Well...I didn't agree to any such thing."

"Just don't throw it at him, please. We're working on it in our own way."

At last she agreed. "OK. I'll try not to muddy the water." She finished spreading goo on Indy's scratches and handed the resin-covered scrap of cloth to him. "I'll let you take care of Mutt then, so you can keep 'working on it.'" She smiled in a satisfied way.

Indy swore under his breath. He moved awkwardly over to Mutt. "Feeling any better?"

"Some, yeah," Mutt answered. "Thanks for the jacket. You didn't have to let me use it."

"That's all right." Indy began unwrapping the crude bandages from Mutt's leg. "Anything for the guy who saved my life."

"You kind of saved mine, too. If you hadn't gotten between us, I'd have been history. And I don't think I could have strangled that thing on my own."

"So you're saying we're even?"

"Yeah." Mutt clenched his jaw as Indy started to treat his wounds. "What is that stuff again?"

"Oleoresin from a Brazilian peppertree. The natives use it to help heal wounds."

"Oleoresin?"

"You know what tree sap is? It's about halfway between sap and resin. Kind of like pitch."

"How did they figure out that it helps wounds?"

Indy shrugged. "Maybe trial and error. But I guess it's only fair to mention the legends...there are myths from many tribes down here about gods giving them a plant for each ailment they could come up with. Different parts of the peppertree are used to treat a lot of them. You shouldn't eat this resin, by the way—you don't have the things it treats internally."

"What does it do externally?"

"Reputedly, it prevents infection and speeds up the healing process."

"You learned all this on an expedition?"

"Most of it."

"How do you remember it all?" Mutt looked genuinely amazed.

"I guess it's because I decide when I learn it that I'm going to remember it."

"You really believe in that 'knowledge is power' thing, don't you?"

"It's helped us so far, hasn't it?"

"Yeah."

Indy suspected that Mutt was mentally revisiting their discussions about school. His suspicions were soon confirmed.

"But this isn't the kind of thing you learn in a classroom."

"No; but a lot of things I learned in school made it so I _could_ learn things in the field. History, geography and science all helped prepare me for the things I ran into when I was abroad. Not to mention English...speaking my own language well made it easier to grasp other languages. And like you, I enjoy reading."

Mutt sighed. "I think you're one of a kind, Daddy-o. I don't have the kind of mind that just likes to soak stuff up on the off chance that I'll use it some day."

"You'd rather have to learn as you go along?"

"Isn't that how most people do it?"

Indy moved the bandaging around so he could put a clean piece over the scratches when he tied it up again. "Yes, I guess it is. Would you like to learn something about taxidermy?"

"Taxidermy?" Mutt repeated, raising one eyebrow.

"Well, we won't stuff it...but I thought you might like a lion-skin cape. We're going to do a lot of sitting around today. Learning to skin an animal can help pass the time."

Mutt chuckled. "A lion-skin cape, huh? Quite the threads. I'll look like a real ivy-leaguer."

"Well, no one will see you out here, and it'll keep you warmer at night."

"OK, then. Are we going to eat the cat?"

"I don't know...it would probably be very gamey. But there are worse things."

"Yeah, like chicken."

Indy made a fist and pushed it gently against Mutt's chin in a mock-jab. "Very funny, kid."

.

Mutt was a more eager student than Indy had hoped.

"Where do we start? Do we take the guts out?"

"Hold on, junior. The saying that there's more than one way to skin a cat is actually true. Since we want this thing to be wearable, I think we should use the flat skin method. So, we're going to cut a line from under its chin pretty much straight down to the tip of its tail."

The jaguar was still developing hardness. Its neck and paws were very stiff, but the limbs flopped a bit where they joined the body, which was still quite pliable. Indy had put the cat on its back with the limbs to the sides.

"How long's it take for the whole thing to go stiff?"

"I'm not sure. It takes a person's body about a day to a day and a half to get completely stiff; then rigor mortis starts to pass off and it's completely limp again within three days of the death."

"You know _too much_, Teach."

"You asked."

Soon Marion returned from a morning cleanup session at the stream. "How's it going, warriors?" she asked.

"Don't come over here, Mom," Mutt called. "Things are about to get goopy."

"I don't think any sight could shock me after all the things I've seen," she muttered. She sat next to Ox, who was looking over the proceedings with obvious interest.

"OK, so now I cut down the length of the limbs, right?" Mutt asked.

Indy had always liked teaching, but now that he was giving his son a lesson, he found the enjoyment far greater than usual. "That's right."

Mutt slid his switchblade along one of the jaguar's front legs. "Where do I stop?"

"In there, beside the biggest pad. There you go. Good. Now the other one..."

When the initial cuts were made, Indy said, "OK. _Now_ we get to open the body cavity and take the guts out."

"On second thought," Marion piped up, "I think I'll gather some more firewood."

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_Hee hee. Don't forget to review. :p If my pig Latin differs from yours, then I-ay am-ay orry-say. I also apologize if I got any facts about the peppertree wrong._


	7. Back to Artemis

_Mrs. Darcy1234, hee hee, I thought it would be funny to have a like-father-like-son moment over the cat guts. It's such a guy thing to enjoy gross things._

_Ecri, you're too kind. :D Thanks for another fantastic review._

_Ellen, glad you appreciated the tacit tribute to Raiders. My siblings and I always thought it was funny that Indy was such a big baby when he was hurt._

_Thanks to everyone else reading too! :D_

_Indy, Marion, Mutt and Ox are not mine. The cat guts __**are!**__ So is the doe. :p_

.

BACK to ARTEMIS

.

There was nothing to carry the cat guts in (since Indy refused to volunteer his hat), so they opted to use their hands. They had to move the innards away from their camp so that other carnivores would not come in to get them.

"This is _so_ grody," Mutt commented, quite pleased.

"You sure you don't want to eat the heart?" Indy asked, smirking. "There are lots of legends that say you can get its strength that way."

"Tempting as that sounds, no thanks."

They carried the entrails to the far side of the stream and left them in a little pile.

Suddenly, Indy grabbed Mutt's forearm and froze.

Mutt followed his gaze and saw the red-brown head of an animal looking up at them from the forest floor, not ten yards away.

"What is it?" Mutt whispered.

"A pampas deer—probably what our friend the jaguar was after last night," Indy whispered back.

As he descried the rest of the creature half-hidden in vegetation, Mutt saw something sticking out of its hind leg, high up near the hip. "What's that in its leg?"

"Looks like part of an arrow." Indy began very slowly uncoiling the bullwhip at his side.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'd rather have venison than wildcat, wouldn't you?"

Mutt held his breath, prepared to run after them if it turned into a chase.

When Indy started toward it, the deer lurched to its feet. Indy ran a few more steps and sent the whip to snake around its hind legs.

The deer stumbled to its knees, tried to recover and fell onto its side.

Mutt and Indy were both rushing forward as the deer untangled itself and got to its feet. Mutt passed his father and launched himself at the deer.

The deer was much quicker than he'd given it credit for, and he landed just short of his target. Grasping wildly, he managed to catch one of the deer's hind feet.

"Let go of it!" Indy said, but he was too late.

The foot came back and glanced off the top of Mutt's head.

Pained, but more determined than ever not to give up, Mutt grabbed the deer's other hind leg and flipped the frightened creature onto its side.

Then Indy was there, wrapping three of the deer's legs in his whip like a rodeo cowboy might tie a calf.

"Kid, when are you going to start listening to me?"

Winded from his fall, Mutt gasped, "Um...well, we caught it, right?"

Indy shook his head. "Yes, we caught it. If you'd stayed out of my way, I could have gotten it without either of us getting hurt. Are you all right?"

"Think so." Mutt fingered the throbbing spot under his hair.

"How's your leg? Not bleeding again, is it?"

Mutt checked the wrappings around his leg. "I think it's OK." Eager to change the subject, he said, "Where do you think she picked up that arrow?"

"Could have been any of a number of indigenous tribes that live around here. My guess is Kayapo, but I can't tell for sure just by looking at the arrow."

"You can't?"

"I have my limitations," Indy said, smiling slightly.

The deer had stopped struggling and was lying perfectly still.

Mutt put his hand on the deer's side. "Holy crow, her heart's racing."

"I wonder if it would be more merciful to finish her with a sword, or to cut her throat, or break her neck..."

Mutt looked into the deer's dark eyes, each of which were rimmed with a circle of white hair. "Do we have to kill it?"

"What? Of course, we have to kill it if we're going to eat it."

"Well...it just doesn't seem fair."

"What's unfair about it?"

"First she got shot, then she got chased by a jaguar, now we're going to slaughter her? Hasn't she been through enough?"

Indy sighed. "Yes. She's been through enough—we should put her out of her misery."

"Please? I'll eat cat—I don't care. Can't we just let her go back to Artemis?"

There was a long silence in which Mutt avoided Indy's piercing stare. He knew it was silly. But this was the most beautiful animal he'd ever seen, and for some reason he didn't want to see it die.

At last, Indy laughed. "Never say I never did anything for you, junior." He grasped the broken arrow and pulled it out of the deer's leg.

The deer lifted its head and let it flop back onto the ground when it found that it could still not move its legs.

"Will that heal OK?" Mutt asked, hating the thought of releasing the doe only to have it caught because of its lameness.

"Yeah, she'll be all right."

Indy unwound the whip from the deer's legs and he and Mutt backed away from it.

Again the creature lifted its head; it gathered its long limbs.

"Go on," Mutt told it. "Split."

Indy took a step forward and clapped his hands.

The deer sprang to its feet and bounded away into the jungle.

"Wow," Mutt breathed. "That was like...the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

"More amazing than inter-dimensional beings taking off in a flying saucer?"

"Get with it, man, this was _way_ cooler."

"At least it was less dangerous," Indy conceded. "Come on, we need to get that cat skinned, remember?"

"Right. OK." Mutt followed Indy back toward the stream, looking over his shoulder a few times at the spot the deer had disappeared.

"I was starting to think you'd gotten lost," Marion said when they returned to camp. "How far did you have to go?"

Mutt grinned at her. "We left a neat little raunchy pile just beyond the stream."

"I hope you washed your hands afterward."

"Oh, yeah."

In their absence, Oxley had begun peeling the skin back from the jaguar's tail and hind feet.

"Thanks, Ox," Indy said, "we'll take it from here."

Ox again sat back to watch.

Indy showed Mutt how to scrape the connecting tissue off the skin as they went, to leave it as smooth as possible.

Mutt found it slightly frustrating that Indy was so quick at the work, while he had to take it very slowly to make sure he didn't damage the hide.

"It takes practice," Indy encouraged him. "And a switchblade isn't really designed for this. You're doing fine.

"Ideally," he went on, "we'd have some salt water to soak it in, but we'll have to make do with stretching it out to dry. That makes it even more important to scrape all that tissue off. We don't want it to start rotting on us."

"Speaking of rotting," Marion piped up, "are we really going to eat meat off that carcass? It's been sitting there all night."

"In an air-tight container," Indy said with a winning smile. "Its skin."

"Does rigor mortis make meat tough?" Mutt asked curiously.

"It certainly can. But we don't want to wait for it to pass off—then we really will have to worry about its getting rotten. But if we cook it thoroughly, I'm sure it'll be fine."

Marion muttered something that sounded as if she were not convinced at all.

By the time the skin was completely detached from the jaguar's body, they were all ready for something to eat. Mutt was glad Indy hadn't told the others about the deer—Marion would probably have much preferred venison and scolded them for letting it go.

As he waited for his chunk of meat to brown over the fire, Mutt said, "I forget what you said happened after Hercules brought back the boar—the king hid someplace?"

Indy licked a singed finger and nodded. "Yeah—he hid in a big urn or something. The boar was tied up, so it couldn't hurt him, but he was a bit of a coward, I think."

"Yeah, sounds that way."

"He asked Hercules to get rid of the boar. I think he let it go."

"Seems like a waste after all the trouble he went through to get it," Marion commented.

Mutt didn't trust himself to answer. He caught a wink from Indy and smiled into the fire.

--------------------------------

_Enjoy the chapter? Leave a review! It's what encourages writers to add chapters, don'tcha know!_

_Note: I'm just hoping that the Kayapo tribe might have been in that area in that year...I was unable to confirm that bit of information._


	8. Brains

_Note: I made a change to chapter one, since I found a source that said it was Hera who caused Hercules' temporary madness (which makes a lot of sense!)._

_MontyPythonFan, I know so much about skinning animals and tanning hides because of three things: my dad (hunts, skins critters, tans hides) a book (inherited from my grandfather) entitled __Taxidermy__, and Google (gotta love Google!)._

_Ellen, thanks for another great review!_

_Ecri, same to you—I love your reviews._

_Padawan Jan-AQ, Wow, that's a lot of reviews. Lol, Thanks! Glad you're enjoying it._

_Iccle fairy, Thanks so much. Hope you enjoy this chapter, too._

_**Warning: **__This chapter may just gross you out a bit. Heh heh._

_Indy, Mutt, Marion and Ox aren't mine... but I'm in danger of becoming theirs._

.

BRAINS

.

"OK," Indy told Mutt. "If we really want this hide to survive the trip, then there's only one good way to preserve it without salt."

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Marion muttered.

"What is it?" Mutt asked.

"Brain tanning."

"Is that what it sounds like?"

"Uh...yeah."

Marion stood up. "So, I guess I'll be collecting more firewood..."

Indy grinned at her. "Find some rotten wood while you're at it—we'll want to smoke the hide when we're through."

"I'll do my best."

"Guts are one thing," Mutt said, sounding a bit uneasy. "I'm not sure about brains."

Indy was already advancing on the jaguar carcass, sword in hand. "I've never decapitated a big cat before," he mused. "Should be interesting..." He noticed that despite Mutt's hesitation, the boy was watching him fixedly.

Oxley, of course, found the whole thing hilarious. Well, let him laugh. He'd been through a lot in the last few weeks.

Once he got into it, Mutt seemed to forget the grossness of the situation and helped Indy peel the flesh away from the jaguar's skull.

"If you decide you want to keep the skull," Indy said, "we'll have to be very careful taking the brains out."

"Nah, I've had enough of skulls to last a lifetime," Mutt answered.

"OK, that makes it easy."

When the skull was fairly clean, Indy set it close to the fire nose-up so he could be sure it wouldn't start leaking.

"If things were more in our favor, we'd have a pot to boil it in, but this will have to do. While we wait for it to heat up, we can do some more fleshing."

Indy and Mutt held the hide between them and they continued the long—and admittedly boring—task of removing fat and tissue from the flesh side.

Marion wrinkled her nose at the sight of the jaguar's skull sitting by the fire, but she didn't comment on it as she put more wood on to burn. "I'm piling your rotten wood over here," she told Indy. "Does it matter if it's hardwood or soft?"

"Hard is better," Indy answered. "We don't want the fire getting too hot. Heat can damage the hide. What we're after is the smoke." He looked over at Ox. "If you're feeling industrious, you can go cut some poles—eight or ten feet would be good."

Ox tipped his head quizzically to the side. "With a sword?"

"That's all we've got."

"The blades will be no good by the time we get home," Mutt said glumly.

"I'll have them sharpened for you," Indy said. "Don't worry about it."

"If and when we _do_ get home," said Marion, "I think we should drape that pelt over the couch, don't you Mutt?"

Mutt shrugged. "Sure. If you want everyone who comes over to ask where it came from and have to tiptoe around the UFO thing so they don't think we're completely kookie... sure."

"Careful how you're angling the knife," Indy reminded him. "You don't want to put a hole in it."

"Righto." Mutt returned his attention to his work and dragged his switchblade over the hide at a right angle.

Glancing up, Indy caught Marion staring at them. She was smiling a very soft smile.

"What?" Indy asked. "You're not repulsed anymore?"

"It's growing on me," she answered.

Before long, Indy decided that another installment of the Hercules Show was in order. Fleshing a pelt really lost its appeal after the first ten minutes or so.

"What number were we on?" he asked Mutt.

"Five," Mutt answered.

Indy turned the jaguar skin to give Mutt a new patch to work on. "Five. Is that the stable or the birds?"

"The stable," Ox answered from his little corner of camp. He was awkwardly trying to sharpen the ends of three poles with one of Mutt's rapiers.

"All right, then. The fifth task Eurystheus gave Hercules was to clean the Augean stables in a single day."

"I take it they were big stables?" Mutt asked.

"Yes, but it was more than that. Augeas kept very special livestock in those stables. They were immune to disease of all kinds. So the stables never really needed to be cleaned."

Marion made a face. "Just like men...if it doesn't _need_ to be done, why do it?"

"I take offense, ma'am," Indy told her. "Anyway, Eurystheus figured it would be a very humiliating job for Hercules. So even if he did manage to pull it off, this task wouldn't set him off as a hero like the others did."

"Oh, I know what he did," Mutt said quickly.

"I can't wait to hear it."

"He picked up the stable with his crazy strength and set it down in a clean spot."

Indy laughed. "He really should have had you along, kid. No, he got a couple of rivers to change course and wash the stable out."

"That works too, I guess."

"Now, Augeas had promised to give Hercules a share of his cattle if he succeeded, and since he agreed to accept payment, Eurystheus said that this task didn't count either. Also because Hercules got help from the rivers. He was pretty upset that he hadn't had to get his hands dirty."

"Eurystheus sure was a whiner."

"Yeah."

"Not going to mention Phyleus?" Ox asked.

"I wasn't going to," Indy answered. "But I guess now I'll have to. Phyleus was Augeas's son. Apparently Augeas was of the Eurystheus persuasion in that he didn't want or expect Hercules to succeed. But Phyleus sided with Hercules. So his father exiled him."

"Touchy dad," said Mutt.

"Just wait. When it came time to pay up to Hercules, Augeas refused. So when Hercules was done with his tasks he killed Augeas and gave his kingdom to Phyleus. So there's some extreme vengeance for you."

"Wow. Well... maybe he was taunting him or something. Cruisin' for a bruisin.'"

"That's a good enough reason to kill him?"

Mutt shook his head. "But maybe he didn't really mean to kill him."

"I don't think that's how it happened.... The Greeks had very different ideas of ethics. In their culture, vengeance was acceptable. Admirable, even."

Indy paused as Marion approached him from behind and bent to whisper in his ear.

"He's only combed his hair once today."

Indy grinned and leaned back to kiss her.

Mutt cleared his throat. "Um, hey. Story? What happened next?"

Marion squeezed Indy's shoulder and wandered off again.

"Right," Indy muttered. "The Stymphalian birds. They belonged to Ares, the god of war."

"I thought Mars was the god of war."

"That's Roman mythology. This is Greek, remember?"

"Oh, OK. So what were they like—lots of heads?"

"No; metal wings. They could shoot their feathers at people."

Mutt seemed impressed. "Supermurgitroid. That's a talent that would come in handy."

"You really need to watch your language," Indy muttered.

Mutt laughed. "Maybe you just need to expand your vocabulary. But back to the birds."

"All right. Ares' pets got chased up to Lake Stymphalia by a pack of wolves—"

"Why didn't they shoot their feathers at them?"

"I don't know—be quiet," Indy said, slightly irritated. "They kind of took over up there and Eurystheus decided that Hercules' sixth job should be to get rid of them. Well, the forest around there was very dense, so he couldn't get a good shot at them with his bow. So he got Athena and Hephaestus to forge these big clappers to scare them into the air."

"Didn't that make the task not count—because he had help?"

"No, oddly enough. Maybe word didn't get back to Eurystheus about it. So _anyway_..." Indy waited to make sure Mutt wouldn't interrupt again before he went on. "He used arrows dipped in the poison hydra blood to shoot them down. The ones that got away left Greece for good."

"Wow. Hercules finally did something smart. Maybe he had some brains after all."

"Speaking of brains..." Indy got up and carefully felt the side of the jaguar's skull which faced away from the fire. "This is probably as good as it's going to get without burning the skull or our hands. We'll want a couple of rocks from the riverbed to break it open.

Marion made herself scarce again during the skull-cracking. Mutt looked as if he wanted to join her, but he didn't say anything.

Indy used the largest rounded piece of skull to fetch a little water from the stream to mix in with the brains as they rubbed them into the hide.

"Goopy enough for you?" Indy asked sarcastically.

"Well...it's not too bad if I don't think about it," Mutt responded, squishing a lump into the skin. "Whose idea was it to use brains to tan a hide anyway?"

"I don't know who did it first, actually."

"You sound so disappointed. You told me yourself you have your limitations."

Indy smiled at him, tempted to rub a brains-covered hand on his son's face. He resisted the impulse.

"So when we're done here, what do we do?"

Looking over at Ox, who was tying his poles together with vines, Indy said, "Next we get to smoke it."

Mutt had a strange look in his eye. Mischievous, Indy thought.

"OK, what's that look for?"

"Oh, I was just thinking what a bad influence you are," Mutt said, trying and failing to hold back a smile. "We've known each other only a few days and you're going to teach me to smoke."

---------------------------------

_Hope it wasn't too nasty for you. But I'm not sorry! :p I know that this chapter was mostly dialogue... but after all, they had to sit around all day. Please leave a review if you liked it... or if you didn't, I suppose you can say that too, but be nice, please._


	9. Bittersweet

_**Kat**__, I hope this gives you enough Marion for a while. :) This is an Indy-and-Mutt story, after all, but she's important too, naturally._

_**MontyPythonFan**__, nonsense, I took it as a compliment. :D_

_**Ellen**__, no Hercules this time around, but more soon. My dad has never used the methods I'm describing here that I know of, since he always had the salt and chemicals needed. I have treated one squirrel skin under my dad's supervision (My brother shot the squirrel with a bow and arrow made by my dad). I wanted to use it for a lion-skin rug in my doll house. :p Now that I've been researching for this story, however, I would like to try the brain tanning method. I think the reason some people don't allow anonymous reviews is because they like to know who is talking to them, and they like to be able to message them back if they have to explain something or if they want to thank them. I highly recommend that you sign up and sign in when you leave comments, but to each his own._

_**Ecri**__, hee hee, I think that was my favorite part too. It was fun to write!_

_**Mrs. Darcy**__, that's about the level of grossness I was going for. :p_

_**Everyone else**__, thanks for reading and reviewing! Keep it up. :D_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Indy, Mutt, Marion, or Ox, nor have I tried soursop. But I'd like to. (Yes, I'd like to own them AND try soursop!)_

.

BITTERSWEET

.

Mutt had never felt so messy. Or so ragged. Or so weird. Or gone so long without combing his hair. But there was no way he was touching it with jaguar brains all over his hands.

Oxley was putting the long poles up over the fire like a camera tripod. Indy explained that they would drape the skin over the poles and let it absorb the smoke.

The sun was near setting by the time the hide was completely ready. They piled chunks of rotten wood on the fire, which created a _lot_ of smoke.

Marion moved away from the fire to avoid the dark, noxious curtain around it. "There's one consolation," she grumbled. "If there's a plane within fifty miles, they can't fail to spot that column of smoke.

"Do you know smoke signals?" Mutt asked without thinking. Once the words were out, he scolded himself silently. Indy didn't know everything, after all.

"I used to know a few," Indy answered. "I was in the Boy Scouts. Don't laugh."

"Do you see me laughing?" They were big words. Mutt did feel like laughing, but he managed to hold it in.

"They wouldn't do us any good, anyway. Each tribe that used them had its own set of signals. Anyone that saw them down here wouldn't have a clue what I was trying to say."

"But they'd know it wasn't just a bush fire," Marion pointed out. "And they'd know you were trying to say _something."_

Indy gave a dramatic sigh, but he was smiling. "I'll send some up tomorrow before we break camp, if it makes you happy. Just to show the kid how it's done."

"It _does_ make me happy." Marion rubbed her hands together.

Mutt knew it should have hit him before, but for some reason it hadn't. His mother was completely in love with Dr. Jones. She was real gone.

"We'll need more smoke-making material, then," Indy was saying. "Help me find some, junior?"

Mutt stood staring at his mother. She looked so pleased and content, even though she was in a deserted place with no plumbing and no dairy products and only three men for company.... It was all OK to her because of who those three men were.

"Kid? Mutt, you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm cookin'." Mutt followed Indy into the trees.

"How's your leg?" Indy asked when they were away from the others.

"Fine."

"Fine enough to move on in the morning?"

"I'm ready when you are, gramps."

Indy stopped walking. "Listen, did I do something wrong? Say something to upset you?"

"No." Mutt avoided eye contact. "I wasn't trying to be rude. I'm sorry." He waited what seemed like a very long time.

Then Indy seemed to decide nothing major was up—or that he didn't want to deal with it—and walked on.

As they were wandering down the bank of the stream, Mutt spotted a rounded, dark green fruit growing on a large shrub.

"Hey, Prof, what's this?"

Indy looked up from the fallen tree he was plundering. "Looks like a mountain soursop, kid."

"Is it edible?"

"Depends on who you ask," Indy chuckled.

Fingering the spiny skin of one of the larger fruits, Mutt asked, "Do you think we should take some back with us?"

"Sure. It might break up the monotony. Shake the tree and take the ones that fall."

Mutt did as he was told and was pleased to see that the fruit he had been touching was among those that fell.

"All right, we'd better head back," said Indy. "It'll be full dark soon."

Mutt had been expecting another good hour of twilight, but by the time they returned to camp he could barely make anything out beyond the firelight.

"Find enough rotten wood?" Marion asked pleasantly.

"Yeah," Mutt answered. "I found some fruit, too. A mountain... something-or-other."

"Soursop," Indy supplied.

"Yeah, that."

"And it lives up to its name, just to warn you. That's no lucuma."

Mutt cut open one of the fruits with his switchblade.

"I hope you've washed that knife since you used it on your lion-skin rug," Marion said.

"Of course," Mutt lied. He had wiped it off on his pant leg—wasn't that good enough? He cut out a slice of the pulpy, yellow middle and tasted it. "Yeah," he muttered, struggling to keep his eyes open. "That is kind of bitter."

Marion nibbled a piece. "Bittersweet. Not too bad, though. I think I could get used to it."

"Definitely an acquired taste," Ox agreed.

"And have you acquired it?" asked Indy.

"Yes, in point of fact. I'll take a wee bit, if you don't mind, son."

Mutt passed the fruit and knife to Ox. As he glanced across the fire at Indy, he saw that the professor looked agitated. Almost angry. Why should he be so upset if the rest of them liked soursop? Maybe it was just another of the old man's quirks. Best to employ the staple confrontation strategy—avoidance, that is.

He thought about asking for another installment of Hercules' adventures, but determined that it might do more harm than good. Instead, Mutt decided it was time he gave his mother some attention.

"You doing all right, Mom?" he asked, sitting on the ground beside her.

She smiled at him. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm glad you've been getting along with Indy. I appreciate that."

Mutt felt uncomfortable. "Um... I haven't really been making an effort in order to make you happy. It's more like I've decided it's easier to... ignore certain things for now."

Marion put an arm around him. "Well, you've still been employing self control. So, I'm pleased about that."

Suddenly realizing he hadn't combed his hair since that morning, Mutt pulled his comb out and made a project of it.

"Honey," Marion said softly, "I want to talk to you about Collin."

Mutt combed faster. "Why? I mean, what about him?"

Marion reached up and took his wrists gently in her hands. "Please, just put that away for a minute."

This was not going to be good, Mutt could tell. He would try going along with her for now.

"Sure." He tucked the comb into his pocket.

"Thank you. I just want to make sure you understand that Collin was a wonderful man, and he loved you very much..."

"That's what you've been telling me my whole life, Mom." From the silence, he knew he'd said the wrong thing. "I'm sorry. Mom?"

"No, _I'm_ sorry." Marion put an arm around Mutt's shoulders and rested her head against his. "What I've told you about Collin in the past was all true—except that he wasn't really your father. We were going to tell you when you turned ten. That was Collin's idea. He said you had a right to know. And you did."

"It's not your fault he died before I got that old."

"No, but I should have told you anyway. I think I was afraid that you wouldn't understand, or that you'd be upset about it—"

"Well, finding out I'm not legally _anyone's_ son is a little upsetting," Mutt admitted. "But I'm not mad. I mean, it doesn't change anything, right?"

"Of course not." She sighed heavily. "But I think the thing that scared me most was that you'd want to go find your real father. Either to go live with him, or to kill him—I'm not sure which one I found more likely."

"You've seen too many flicks, Mom."

"I know. But back then I wasn't ready to see him again, and I didn't want to lose you, one way or the other. I wish I'd told you sooner. But the longer I waited, the harder it got."

Mutt frowned, turning the information over in his mind. He looked over at Ox, who was happily eating soursop, a nibble at a time. Then he looked at Indy, who was dragging the skinned jaguar carcass away from camp. They could wish all they wanted, but who could say whether things could have turned out any better?

Turning back to his mother, Mutt planted a kiss on her cheek. "You're the best, Mom."

Marion made a little choking sound and wrapped Mutt in a grip he wouldn't have thought her capable of.

"Don't cry," he pleaded, feeling his own eyes going moist.

"Sorry," she laughed. "I'm just so relieved. And so proud of you." She released him and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh... you can finish combing now, if you want to."

"Thanks." The comb was out before the word was.

-------------------------------------

_Enjoy the read? Leave a review! :D_

_By the way, please keep in mind that in the 50's, being illegitimate was a slightly bigger deal than it is now. I'm trying to be realistic, not biased.  
_


	10. Third

_A note on the tanning process: I really should have had them stake the hide before they smoked it, but I sort of got ahead of myself in my excitement. Perhaps I will go back and fix that one day, because Indy would know to do that. Just take note: if you plan to try this method, you will want to stretch the hide for a day or so before you smoke it, otherwise it won't be soft. K, thanks._

_There's another reference to my story "Compromise" in this chapter, but it shouldn't confuse you if you don't want to go back and read that one._

_**Mrs. Darcy**__, thanks. I thought we didn't hear enough about Collin in the movie._

_**Ellen**__, I'm glad you think so. When I read your review I laughed out loud about your zapped squirrel. Your parents were right to be concerned, since wild critters can carry fleas and disease, but if you used rubber gloves and worked outside you'd probably be OK._

_**Ecri**__, I hope it didn't gross you out too terribly much. :p_

_**hansolofan**__, Welcome aboard! I hope you enjoy it. You get some Indy/Marion in this chapter._

_Indy, Marion, Mutt and Ox are my friends... you don't own friends. They stick by you by choice, for some reason..._

.

THIRD

.

Something was eating at Mutt, Indy knew, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He did know, however, what was bothering _him_. Mutt was so touchy about Indy's using the term "son," yet when Oxley had used it a moment ago, Mutt hadn't said a word. No protest, not even an annoyed look. Why was it all right for Ox, who was _not_ Mutt's father, to call him son when Indy couldn't?

At least they had progressed from "Don't call me son! _No_," to "Please, don't call me that." And anyway, even if Mutt wouldn't let him use the label, he _was_ Indy's son, so why was he so upset?

When he returned from disposing of the jaguar's skinned and headless body, Indy saw that Mutt had finished talking with his mother. He helped Mutt take the hide off the tripod and told him, "Sleep on this tonight, and I guarantee you'll have your warmest night yet."

"I can't believe it's finally done," Mutt said. He took the hide to show Ox and ended up sharing another soursop with him. At least his preoccupation might give Indy a chance to really talk with Marion—something he hadn't had a good chance to do for some time.

"You've been working too hard," Marion told him when he approached her. "You're going to get those scratches all infected."

"I'm fine, Marion. Remember, the peppertree oleoresin is an astringent."

"That's what you keep saying, anyway." She patted the ground beside her.

Indy sat and put an arm around Marion's waist. He caught a less-than-friendly look from Mutt and dropped his hand to the ground. "The kid acts more like a boyfriend than a son," he commented, keeping his voice low. "Is he normally this possessive?"

"It depends. Believe it or not, he had quite a row with Ox when he first started paying us regular visits."

"Really? How old was he?"

"Getting close to fifty, I think."

"Not Ox! Mutt."

"Oh. He was eight or nine."

"Oh." Indy was a little disappointed, though he knew he shouldn't be. "What kind of row?"

"Well, I was going through kind of a rough time, and Ox came over for dinner to sort of cheer me up," Marion said, staring reminiscently into the smoldering fire. "Afterward, he helped put Mutt to bed—we still called him Henry at that point—and then we were talking. I was just really stressed and needed a shoulder to cry on. Well, little Henry heard me crying, and mommies shouldn't cry, of course. So he figured something was really, very wrong. When he came out and saw Ox hugging me, he asked what happened. I told him it was nothing and he should go back to bed."

"I bet he took that well."

"Yeah, it's strange... somehow kids never listen when you call something 'nothing.' He said he didn't want to go to bed until he knew why I was crying."

"Very stalwart," Indy observed.

"Well, Collin was very military. I think Mutt picked a little of that up from him. It's almost gone now... I sort of miss it. He used to be more organized and conforming. I don't know if it's better, but it was... easier." Marion sighed. "Don't get me wrong—I love Mutt the way he is..."

"I understand," Indy said, not wanting the topic to change. "But what started the 'row' between him and Oxley?"

"When he refused to go, Ox told him he shouldn't talk back to his mother, and he needed to go straight back to bed. Then Mutt yelled 'You're not my dad' at him. Which just made me feel worse, because I knew that the poor little guy didn't have any idea who _was_ his dad..."

Indy found himself registering a tiny shred of sympathy for Ox, but it soon passed. He couldn't help feeling a little glad that Mutt had blown up his old schoolmate. It meant that Mutt's more recent reactions to Indy might be general rather than personal.

"So, anyway," Marion went on, "I asked Ox to leave. I told him I'd be fine and I needed to take care of Mutt myself. He apologized, but he hadn't done anything wrong—and I told him that. Scared and sleepy kids don't always do the most rational things. I managed to get Mutt back to bed and convince him that I was all right."

"How'd he treat Ox after that?"

"He was leery of him for a while. But Ox was really great about treating Mutt like an adult after that. He would try to explain things to him before giving him orders. Mutt really took to it. That's not to say that he never disobeyed again—heavens, no! But he wasn't so resentful. He really built a lot of respect for Ox. Soon he was just like a second father to Mutt."

"Third."

Marion leaned her head tiredly on Indy's shoulder. "Yes, third."

Indy lifted his arm and held his hand poised over Marion's shoulder until he caught Mutt's eye.

Mutt frowned, but he also gave a tiny nod.

Indy let his hand fall and he pulled Marion against him. "It's very strange having to tacitly ask permission from my own son in order to court you."

"He'll come around," Marion said. She tipped her head back and kissed Indy's jaw.

"That's not fair."

"Why not?"

"Because if I kiss you back, he'll have a fit."

Marion laughed. "Scared of him?"

"In a way," Indy murmured.

"Don't be scared. Just talk to him and be honest."

"I'm trying." Indy leaned his cheek against the top of Marion's head. "Marion, I love you."

She laced her fingers through his free hand. "You don't know how nice that is to hear."

"I would if you'd say it back."

"Your pickup lines are getting less clever... but more endearing. I love you, too."

Indy clenched his teeth. He knew he couldn't say another word. If he opened his mouth now, the first thing that came out would be "Will you marry me?" And he had all but promised Mutt that he wouldn't make a move like that before they were back in the States.

But it was so clear to him now, how important Marion was to him. If he was going to regain her trust, he wanted to fix some of the mistakes he had made. He was sure she wanted that too—was it fair to keep her waiting?

Seeing Mutt coming around the fire toward them, Indy straightened a little. No sense in making his son take offense at their closeness.

"I think I'll take the dawn shift this time, if it's all the same to you," he said.

"Sure," Indy agreed.

"Right. Then I'll be turning in."

"We won't keep you up," Marion promised.

Mutt gave her a suspicious look. "You need sleep, too," he said.

Indy could take a hint. He stood up and made a show of stretching. "I'll ask Ox if he'll take first watch. I'm ready for bed, myself."

Sure enough, as soon as Indy had moved away from Marion, Mutt seemed to relax.

"Hey, Ox," Indy said quietly. "Could you take the first watch?"

"Suits me all right," Ox replied.

"And do me a favor—wake Marion next? Mutt requested the last watch, and I want go third so I'll be the one to wake him."

Ox nodded solemnly. "I can do that, Henry."

"Thanks. You're a pal."

Ox really was a good guy, Indy told himself. He was apparently glad to see Indy trying to connect with Mutt. At least Ox was one person in the group whose support he could count on.

As he spread his jacket on the damp ground to sleep on, Indy reflected that Hercules' next task was to capture the Cretan Bull. It put him in mind of the cliché, "take the bull by the horns." He hoped that the upcoming discussion with Mutt would not prove to be a Herculean task.

-----------------------------------------

_Sorry if this one was a little short. Please leave me a review to know how you liked it. __:) _


	11. A Different Story

_**Iccle fairy**__, they do get moving in this one—there's more action ahead, I promise._

_**Ellen**__, they will have their chat, but... don't expect it all to get worked out right away. (Mwa ha ha... have to drag out the angst, you know!)_

_Thanks to everyone following the story. :D This longer chapter should make up for the last one, which was short._

_Note: I'm not terribly familiar with South American geography, and I really wasn't able to follow it too closely when I watched the movie, so forgive me if I have the party a few hundred miles off course! :p_

_Indy, Mutt, Marion and Ox still don't belong to me, and Indy wants to know why on earth you would ever think they did. He also asks that you review when you're done!_

.

A DIFFERENT STORY

.

Just as Indy had predicted, Mutt felt warmer that night than he had since their first night in South America. When Indy came to wake him, he did _not_ want to return to consciousness.

"No," he muttered. "Leave me alone..."

"I would, but it's your turn to keep watch," Indy responded.

Mutt rolled over and sighed. "Yeah. OK. I'm awake." He slowly forced himself to sit up and stretch.

"I wanted to talk to you," Indy said.

_Well, that's straight-forward,_ Mutt thought. _First Mom, now the old man._ "What about?" he asked warily.

"About your mother."

Mutt bit his tongue. He tugged the jaguar skin closer to the fire and made room for Indy to sit beside him.

"I know you didn't want to have any more major discussions about this before we got home," Indy began, "but I'd like to reopen the topic if I may."

When the silence became too uncomfortable, Mutt said, "OK."

"The thing is, I don't want Marion to think I'm going to just enjoy her company here and then run off as soon as we're back in the States. But I can't really make any plans until you and I come to terms."

Mutt slapped at a mosquito. "Why not? I mean... if I flat-out told you that you couldn't come around after this, would you really listen to me?"

"I certainly wouldn't ignore it. I love Marion, but I'm not going to marry her at the expense of your respect."

"So, you're sure you want to marry her?"

"Yes."

This was not a very welcome development, in Mutt's opinion. "Look, Clyde, this is why I didn't want to talk about it. It's too soon, OK?"

"Clyde?" Indy sounded puzzled.

"If you're asking permission to propose, I don't know what to say. I... I think that would make her happy. So, if you're gonna do it, just do it, all right?"

"I'm just asking you to think about it. You don't have to decide now."

Mutt pulled out his comb and distractedly ran it through his hair. "I don't know what you want, man. You say you want to marry her, I say do it, now you tell me not to decide yet... what the heck do you want?"

"Hey, hey... take it easy. You're not on trial." Indy put a hand on Mutt's shoulder.

Mutt didn't particularly care for the contact, but he let it slide.

"I guess one thing I want is for you to know that I do want to marry your mother. Another thing is that I don't want that to cause friction between you and me—or you and her. It's not just a marriage I want, it's a family. The three of us."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Mutt said, breathing hard and combing faster than ever.

"I _was_ part of a family once," Indy said firmly. "I think I know what I'm getting into."

"Oh, sure, you had _parents_. But you've never had a kid. What do you know about raising kids—especially ones that are almost done being raised anyway?"

"I know that they have very strong opinions, for one thing," Indy said, half smiling in the fire's glow. "And that they get ignored far too much. I haven't been able to help in raising you so far, but I would really like the chance to try."

"I'm not sure I want to be your experiment, Dr. Weird."

Indy chuckled. "You're a bit young to remember that program, aren't you?"

"Ox told me about it," Mutt explained simply. "He used to retell the stories for me on dark and stormy nights."

A high-pitched growl sounded from nearby. Mutt lowered his comb and looked nervously around the edge of the firelight, but he couldn't make anything out. "What's that?" he asked.

"Scavengers fighting over the jaguar carcass," Indy answered calmly. After another stretch of silence, he said, "Like it or not, we're going to be together a few more days, at least. Maybe this can be our 'experiment.'"

"We don't really have a laboratory environment to work in. I think things will be very different once we're back on home turf."

"Yes, they probably will. But if we work at it now, it will be easier later."

Mutt took a deep breath. He didn't want to make the offer he was about to, but he wanted his mother's happiness above anything. "Maybe we don't have to. I could move out of Mom's house within a year, I think. Then you wouldn't have to worry about me."

"I _want_ to worry about you. And I don't want you to move out in a year."

Mutt searched for stray pieces of hair to comb down, but they were all in place.

"I know you didn't ask for the parents you got," Indy went on. "It's not your fault and it's not fair that you're in such a spot. But this time you do get to choose. What I really need before I can propose to your mother in good conscience is your permission—not just to marry her, but to be your father."

Mutt's breath caught in his throat. _I don't need a father!_ his mind screamed at him. He realized he was sweating, even though the night was cool.

"All I want from you _now_ is your word that you'll think about it."

"I have thought about it," Mutt choked out. "How could I _not_ think about it?" When Indy did not take the opportunity to interrupt, he went on. "But I'm no closer to an answer. You're a nice guy, Pops. I just don't know if I can..." He stopped, not sure what he had been going to say.

The hand on Mutt's shoulder tightened.

"All right. I'm sorry I pressured you. Believe it or not, my goal is not to make this harder."

"Word from the bird?" Mutt mumbled.

"If that's like 'cross your heart' then, yeah."

Mutt nodded. All he wanted now was for Indy to change the subject or, better yet, go away. "You should get to sleep," he said stiffly. "Morning's not far off."

"I know." Indy got to his feet. "Don't worry about the weird noises," he said. "But if you _see_ anything, feel free to wake me."

"OK." Mutt held his breath until Indy turned away from him. He ran his comb through his hair one last time before putting it away.

.

.

The next morning, Marion reminded Indy that he had promised to show them smoke signals before they left.

"Oh darn; you remembered," Indy said with a smile. He put chunks of rotten wood on the fire and waited until there was a good stream of smoke. "Bring the pelt over, Junior," he called to Mutt.

Mutt didn't feel like doing anything with Indy just then, but he didn't want his mother to suspect that anything was wrong. He took the jaguar skin to the professor.

Indy took one end and backed up a step or two. "All right, we'll put the hide over the fire to make a break in the smoke..."

They did, and the heavy smoke rolled out lazily from under the tanned hide.

"Now take it off."

By alternating a few seconds on and a few off, Indy created three separate plumes of smoke. "That's the only one I remember," he confessed. "Three of anything is a Boy Scout distress signal. Like SOS."

"That's wonderful," Marion said with a grin. "Do it again."

Indy rolled his eyes. "We really need to get going."

"Just once more?"

"Just like old times," Indy muttered. "OK, fine."

When Marion was satisfied, Mutt withdrew the jaguar hide and shook it out before slinging it over his shoulder.

Indy knocked the fire apart with a stick and trampled the embers to put them out. "Did everyone get a good drink?" he asked. "We might not see water again for a while."

The others answered in the affirmative and they continued down the trail.

"You know, Henry," Ox said, "if we bear more southward, we should find our way to Rio Branco."

"Leave the trail?" said Indy. "I don't want to end up in Bolivia, Ox."

"I thought we were trying to get back to Peru?" Mutt put in, thinking of his motorcycle. He hoped desperately that it was where he had left it.

"It's a long walk to Peru, kid. We'll need to find transportation if we can. Which means civilization as soon as possible."

"So... this Rio Branco is a town?"

"Yes."

"So, let's go that way." Mutt avoided Indy's eyes. He hoped Marion was not getting suspicious.

"All right," Indy said at last. "We'll make for Rio Branco, as soon as we can get a positive bearing on our position."

Getting a "positive bearing" turned out to take a little trouble Mutt hadn't counted on. Indy said the first step was for "someone" to climb the tallest tree they could find.

"Be careful," Marion pleaded from below.

"I'm fine, Mom," Mutt called back in annoyance. He was glad to get up out of the forest for a little while. He noticed a hanging vine about halfway through his climb, but he knew he would get yelled at by _both_ his parents if he tried swinging from it.

As he got into the slimmer, more leafy branches near the top, Mutt thought how fresh the air seemed after the humidity under the canopy. He glanced up toward the sun, which was half hidden in clouds, and then looked all around him.

The trip down was much less enjoyable than the climb up had been. And if Mutt was honest with himself, it was a little scarier, too. But he made it down safely.

"I hope you don't have to do _that_ ever again," Marion complained.

"I couldn't let one of you old-timers go."

"What's the news?" Ox inquired.

"River a ways to the south," Mutt reported. A couple of miles, maybe."

"That'll be the Rio Acre," Indy said. "If we follow that west, we should be able to find Rio Branco."

"_Should_ be able to?"

"Assuming we're not already too far west, in which case we could be wandering around for quite some time."

"Well," Ox said cheerfully, "I'm for the south. Shall we?"

They turned off the trail and Indy led the way, hacking occasionally at vegetation with the rapier he was still carrying for Mutt.

"You know," Marion said a little later, "we haven't heard from Hercules in a while. Did he give up?"

"Not a chance," Indy answered.

Mutt wasn't really in the mood, but he tried to listen as Indy began telling the seventh labor of Hercules.

"Eurystheus sent Hercules to capture the Cretan Bull," Indy began. "The king there, Minos, was happy to get rid of it because it had been causing a lot of trouble. Hercules didn't really do anything clever to catch it—just half-strangled it and shipped it off to Athens."

"There is an alternate tale—" Ox began.

"Yeah, yeah," Indy said, clearly annoyed. "Some people say that the seventh labor was actually to kill the Cretan Minotaur. But I think that really takes away from Theseus' story, so let's not go there."

"Who's Theseus?" Mutt asked, not really interested, but knowing Marion would be wondering if he was all right if he didn't say _something_ soon.

"Oh, another Greek hero. It's a different story entirely."

"OK."

"So Eurystheus was going to sacrifice the bull to Hera," Indy continued. "But as we know, Hera hated Hercules. She didn't want the sacrifice because the capture of the bull had made Hercules look good, and she wanted nothing to do with it."

"Let me guess," said Mutt. "They let it go."

"That's right."

Mutt pasted on a smile for his mother's benefit. But he knew his eyes told a different story. She could always tell when something was bothering him. It was only a matter of time before she found out what.

-------------------------------

_Like it? Please let me know! This story has really gotten bigger than I ever meant it to, but I'm enjoying the journey. :)_


	12. Out to Lunch

_**Writing Destiny**__, thanks so much. I get sick of Mutt and Indy fighting in other people's fics, too. Of course they would be bound to fight some, but not constantly._

_**Padawan**__, thank you for your little reviews. I am planning to have a little of the story after they get back to the States, but not a lot, probably. I need to get back to my Harry Potter story... lol_

_**Ellen**__, isn't it dreadful what we put our favorite characters through for the sake of angst? :p Hee hee._

_**Ecri**__, my sentiments exactly. :) Indy can be pretty dumb. And it does serve him right._

_**DivaStar**__, so glad you are enjoying the story. :D I plan to end it soon after they get home (before the wedding in the movie), so we won't be seeing their married life. But I may do a sequal... eventually._

_Thanks a million to everyone reading! Keep the reviews comin'—I love 'em!_

_Indy, Marion, Mutt and Ox are not mine, but Mutt wants to know how many of you might like to be __**his**__. He's making a list. Oh, and the critters in this chapter are totally mine._

.

OUT TO LUNCH

.

It was hard for Indy to do the Hercules legend justice when he was so frustrated. He had thought things would get better after he talked with Mutt. And they had started out well enough; after all, the boy had invited him to sit beside him and allowed him to reopen the topic of family. But then...

_I don't know what happened_, Indy thought, whacking a shrub out of the way with the sword he carried. _If I do end up heading this family, I hope the parenting angle doesn't turn out to be this confusing all the time._ He glanced up at the overcast sky. _I'm starting to appreciate what you went through, Dad._

The trees were thinning and Indy caught a flash of reflected light. The river was ahead.

"Is that some kind of animal?" Marion asked suddenly.

Indy looked ahead in the direction she indicated. There were still many trees between them and the river, so Indy used a trick his old Scout leader had taught him. He chose a tree, then fixed his gaze on one beyond it; then one beyond that. In this way, his vision climbed through the layers of trees without being overwhelmed by them. Just beyond the last tree he chose was a dark shape against the green shrubs by the river.

"It's a peccary," he said. "There are probably more around, so watch your step."

They continued cautiously until they came to a small clearing by the edge of the river. Much of the jungle floor was cleared to the bare dirt and gravel there, as if animals often came to drink at that spot. And spread across the clearing were more peccaries. Quite a few more.

"They're pigs?" said Mutt.

"Not exactly. But like pigs."

"They're kind of cute," said Marion. "Only... is that awful smell coming from them?"

"You'd better believe it," Indy replied with a smile.

"Are they edible? I hate to ask, because they really are cute, but after the stuff we've been eating, I could really appreciate some pork right now."

"I don't know if we want to mess with them."

Mutt scoffed. "They're pigmy porkers. What are they going to do?"

"You won't be laughing when you're sliced open on the ground watching those 'pigmy porkers' tear away your flesh."

"You're out to lunch on a jive," Mutt said disdainfully.

"I wouldn't dream of it, even if I _did_ know what you just said," Indy snapped. "Anyway, peccaries may look cute, but they have a lot of fight when they feel threatened. And they have very sharp teeth, so give them a little respect."

Mutt still looked doubtful. "But they don't really eat meat, right?"

"Wrong. They prefer fruit, but they'll eat just about anything, including meat."

Finally, the teen appeared to gain some healthy fear of the animals in front of them. But he wasn't ready to drop it.

"But there must be a way we can get one of them. I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry. And they look like eats to me."

"It is near noon, is it not?" Oxley put in.

Blast him.

"All right, look," Indy said in his best listen-or-we'll-have-a-session-after-class tone, "maybe we _can_ herd one out and kill it. But it will take serious cooperation on the part of everyone who wishes to survive the experience. Do you understand?"

Ox and Marion nodded, but it was Mutt whom Indy was staring at.

"Sure, I dig ya," Mutt said flatly.

"All right, here's the plan. They're not scared of water, but they'll avoid going into it if they can. So Ox and Mutt, you'll stand a little down river with the swords and be ready to start butchering when I send one of them toward you. That's assuming that I can get one separated from the others."

"If we've got the swords, what have you got?" Mutt asked casually.

"My bullwhip, naturally." Indy uncoiled the whip and ran it through his hands.

Marion cleared her throat. "And what are my duties, Mr. Beatty?"

"You, as the lovely host of this show, need to stay where the audience can see you. So you'll be up a tree."

"Up a tree?" She folded her arms indignantly. "Afraid I'll mess up your project?"

"No; merely afraid that without enough weapons to go around, those animals might mess _you_ up. Besides, heroes need a fair maiden to cheer them on."

"Don't flatter yourself, Indiana Jones."

Indy assumed his most innocent look. "What? I was referring to your son."

When the others were in position, Indy wandered toward the herd of peccaries. _I must be crazy,_ he thought.

The little pig-like creatures looked up at him suspiciously. Some trotted a few yards away before going back to rooting around in the weeds.

Indy continued on, slowly driving a wedge into the herd, trying to separate one from the others. One little boar uttered a small squeal as he dodged Indy's advance. It turned off down the riverbank toward Mutt and Ox. Two other peccaries started to follow.

The whip that had been trailing over the ground behind Indy suddenly sprang to life. It flicked forward and changed direction just in front of one sow's snout. The resounding _crack_ sent her scurrying the other way, followed by her companion.

Now half the herd was grunting and squealing. A lot of the noise came from down river where Mutt and Ox were dealing with their prey. Most of the other swine trotted toward the cover of the jungle, but two ran straight toward Indy.

Swish, _crack!_ The leader balked at the loud noise in its face, but the second peccary kept coming. A moment later its snout came up hard against Indy's boot. Now it wasn't just scared, but mad.

This time Indy's kick was dodged and he soon felt a monstrous pain in his right ankle. As he fell backward, he heard a strange whirring sound, like a boomerang, and then a solid _thud_. Looking down he saw that the shrieking peccary at his feet now had a sword stuck in its side.

A split second later Mutt was pulling the sword from the writhing creature and driving it back in with vengeful force. Then he sank to his knees beside the peccary's limp form and turned worried looking eyes on Indy's right leg.

"Whoa," Mutt said. "He messed you up pretty good."

"Looks worse than it is," Indy assured him. He tore away the already-ragged cuff of his pant leg and handed it to Mutt. "Go soak this in the river, will you?"

Marion and Ox arrived as Mutt left.

"How bad is it?" Marion demanded.

"I'll live." Indy tried to keep his voice steady despite the pain. He did not want Marion worrying about him.

Ox examined Indy's wounds closely while Marion tried not to watch.

"They look to be fairly superficial," Ox announced. He took the wet rag from Mutt when the latter returned and began wiping away the blood from Indy's leg.

"You all right?" Mutt asked. The words came out slurred together, more like "Yurright?"

"I'm OK, kid." Again, Indy had to fight to keep his discomfort hidden. "We're not even anymore," he said, eyeing the peccary that had attacked him. "I owe you."

Mutt shook his head. "Aw, forget it, Pops. No one messes with _my_ old man."

Indy laughed. Then he muttered, "Ow."

Ox borrowed Mutt's knife, cut a strip from the poncho he wore and used it to bind the place the peccary had champed.

"Why don't you two start butchering one of those pigs," Marion suggested. "I can take over the ministrations from here."

For once, Indy didn't argue. He didn't want Mutt to worry about him, and he knew that Marion wouldn't want to deal with the skinning and division of the peccaries. "That sounds like a good idea."

Mutt didn't look thrilled with the idea of leaving his parents alone, but he followed Ox, who was already dragging the second dead pig away.

"Now," Marion said in a business-like way, "how bad is it _really?"_

"Like Ox said, it's not very serious. But the pain is...pretty dang near unbearable."

"I don't suppose it'll help if I give you a kiss someplace it _doesn't_ hurt?"

Tempted, Indy glanced toward Mutt and Ox. "Nah, it probably wouldn't help," he said regretfully. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd help me get over to the river—I could really use a drink."

As he leaned down to drink, Indy noticed that the river was quite low, as if the area were suffering a dry spell. But the vegetation looked perfectly healthy. "Funny," he murmured.

"What is it?"

"Look at the riverbank on the other side. It's so high—as if this river used to have a lot more volume to it."

"Terrain changes. Volcanoes, earthquakes..."

"Yeah, I know. And dams. Maybe we're closer to Rio Branco than I'd hoped."

Marion smiled at him. "That would be _wonderful."_

"Don't say anything to the others yet—I don't want to get their hopes up."

"I won't." Marion smoothed back Indy's hair, which was damp from dangling into the water when he drank.

Indy noticed a bright spark in her eye. Glancing around quickly, he realized that down by the water's edge they were quite out of sight from the others. Next thing he knew, Marion's arms were around his neck and he was beyond caring whether or not his son caught them kissing.

-----------------------

_Disclaimer: I don't know my way around South America, and I couldn't tell you whether there's a dam on the Rio Acre or not.... So, yeah. Don't sue me._

_If you enjoyed this chapter, please review and let me know! :D_


	13. Out of Sight

_**Padawan**__, don't worry—Mutt's ordeal is far from over. Hee hee, I'm so mean._

_**Ellen**__, peccaries are adorable! And Mutt did have you on his list, but...read the disclaimer._

_**Ecri**__, thanks for your comments on both chapters! Nice to know I'm appreciated. :p_

_**Brittaney**__, Indy says "Welcome aboard!" Thanks for reading!_

_Thanks to everyone else reading the story and reviewing! __:)_

_In the last chapter, I failed to mention that I don't own Clyde Beatty or his lion-tamer act. But I think you probably figured that out on your own. :p_

_Factual issues: Rio Branco International Airport was not opened until 1999. There was another airport in Rio Branco before that, but I was unable to determine whether it was established in the 50's. My guess is no. Also, I'm pretty sure that neither Cuzco nor Nazca had an airport back then, but in KotCS they did, so I'm going with the movie's info, even though it's erroneous. I __**think**__ the Rio Acre flows from west to east, but I was unable to double-check that info._

_**Disclaimers**__: I don't own the songs mentioned in this chapter. I must say I was very disappointed to learn that "Splish Splash" was not recorded until 1958, or I would have used that one!_

_Mutt, Ox, Indy and Marion are not mine. Also, Marion threw Mutt's list in the campfire and told him she'll help him make a proper one later. (Much cursing ensued.)_

.

OUT of SIGHT

.

"My switchblade is getting dull," Mutt told Oxley. "We'd better get out of this jungle soon."

"It's still sharp enough for the job," Ox replied. "Try sawing more and stabbing less."

"Right." Mutt worked on the section of peccary leg in front of him. "Guess we ought to get a fire going right away if we want to be able to roast this anytime soon."

"Very astute. Your father still has the flint, I believe."

Mutt handed his knife to Ox and straightened. "I'll go ask him for it."

Wandering slowly toward the river, Mutt wondered if Indy was all right. Marion had helped him down to the water, and he hadn't seen or heard anything from them since. A moment later, he knew why.

Mutt froze, his eyes widening. His parents were making out in rare form. After standing in shock for a moment, he took an unsteady step backward.

Then Ox was there, gently tugging him away. Mutt followed his mentor back to the butchering site.

"I suppose the flint can wait," Ox murmured.

Mutt was breathing hard, and he knew his face must be flushed. Suddenly, he felt angry. "What's that all about? Where does he get off?"

"Oh, what's the use, my boy? They're in love."

"He doesn't deserve her! How can he love her when he hasn't said 'boo' to her in twenty years?"

"More like seventeen or eighteen, I'd say."

"Whatever. Why are you acting like this is no big deal? This is a big deal!"

Ox smiled. "Yes, it is. They've waited so long for this."

"I don't care whether it's a big deal to _them_... it's not fair."

"True, true.... They've had to wait _too_ long."

Mutt swore. "Ox, do you not care about how _I_ feel?"

"Of course, I do. And they apparently do too, or else they'd have kissed out in the open."

"Will you stop being so calm about this?"

"What would you rather—that I be as upset as you? Then we'd certainly have a mature collective reaction, wouldn't we?"

Mutt wasn't sure whether he could keep his patience up much longer. "I'm getting close to pounding you, Ox. Or _him_. Do you not care that this guy is practically a complete stranger to me, and now he's making out with my mom? No wonder he promised not to talk about it until we got home—he was planning this and wanted to make sure I couldn't yell at him about it. Well, the deal's off!"

"Henry. Your father was wrong to leave your mother."

"That's the first sensible thing you've said today. And don't call him my father."

"However," Ox went on calmly, "I see no reason to discourage him when he shows signs of wanting to undo the wrong he's done."

"Like a smooching session fixes everything."

"Is that the only thing you've seen that makes you think he's changed?"

"It's the only thing I've seen from him that I absolutely couldn't stand. It's filthy."

Ox actually had the gall to laugh. "My dear boy, after some of the things you already knew about him, how can you be so disgusted by this little incident?"

"It's not little. I mean... last night he told me—asked me about Mom. And I didn't end up giving him an answer because he didn't seem to want one.... And now he's acting like I gave him the go-ahead after all."

"You are so very quick to underestimate your mother. Both of your parents, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you have no way of knowing who initiated this... 'smooching session' as you call it. Nor do you know whether it was irresponsibly invited on either side. Love is a very complicated thing, and until you have more experience in that area, you would do well to restrict your remarks to things you _are _familiar with."

_Why is everyone suddenly against me? _Mutt wondered miserably. "I would have more experience if you and Mom had let me go out more and not scared away every girl I ever liked."

"That is another matter entirely. One which I will not address at the moment. Now, I do want you to be happy. But does your happiness come only at the expense of that of others?"

_Dang archaic language,_ Mutt thought. "What about _them_? They seem fine with making themselves happy at _my_ 'expense.'"

Ox looked hard at Mutt. "You seem to think that the scene taking place over there was intended solely for your observation. It was merely unhappy timing that allowed you to witness it. I'm sure that neither of your parents wishes to hurt you."

"He is not my parent. He's my... progenitor. That's it."

"Good word."

"Thanks."

"But in bad taste."

"Shut up, Ox. OK? Just shut up."

.

.

Lunch was a very quiet occasion. Ox dominated the conversation, what little there was. Marion was close runner up.

Mutt had lost a good deal of his appetite, but the peccary meat was good and he managed to shove a lot of it down.

"Of all the tribes I ran into in my exploration," Ox was saying, "most gave me little trouble at all. Especially not when I had the skull with me. But even before that..."

Mutt yawned. He'd had enough of Ox's stories, and enough of South America. He took the opportunity to interrupt when Ox paused for breath. "Hey, how soon do you think we can get to this Rio Branco or whatever?"

Ox looked to Indy, who shrugged.

"No telling," Indy said. "But within a day or two, I hope."

"Is there an airport there?" asked Marion.

"I'm afraid not, but there'll be transportation of some kind. We can probably get some sort of vehicle and get back to Cuzco by road. It'll take a while, but we won't be living off the land. And I'm sure there's a medical center in Rio Branco."

"So, Rio Branco, Cuzco and home?"

"We have to go back to Nazca first," Mutt said quickly.

Indy nodded. "His bike."

Marion's mouth fell open. "Wait, he _brought_ the motorcycle?"

"Why not?" Mutt said defensively. "I didn't have anyplace to leave it anyway."

"Yes, but... you brought your motorcycle to Peru? Did you think you'd find some nice pavement in the jungle?"

"I didn't know we'd be spending so much time _in_ the jungle."

"Oh, so you wanted to drive it around Nazca? Have you seen how those maniacs drive? Motorcycles are the lowest link on the food chain! Buses run over them for _fun!"_

"Mom..."

To Mutt's surprise, Indy came to his aid.

"Hey, he's a good driver... when pedestrians don't step out in front of him, that is. I've seen him outmaneuver a bus."

Marion looked suspicious. "Oh? When was that?"

"Soon after we met. I'll tell you about it some other time."

A large chunk of Mutt's resentment evaporated, though he tried to hold on to it. He had thought that Indy completely disapproved of his driving tendencies. Maybe that wasn't the case after all.

When they had all satisfied their hunger, Mutt rolled some roasted meat up in the jaguar skin and tied the limbs to keep the bundle together. He put a sturdy stick through the knot and carried it over his shoulder like a hobo's pack.

"Off to civilization," Marion said happily. Then she broke into song. "We're off to see the wizard..."

"Oh, no," Mutt groaned. "No, please..."

Ox joined Marion. Indy cracked a grin and then began to laugh.

"This is so embarrassing," Mutt grumbled.

"Oh, come on," Indy said, "singing is a good way to pass the time. Almost every culture I've come in contact with has songs for marching and working..."

"Not _mine."_

"Yes, well, since when does your generation march or work?"

Mutt scowled.

"The wonderful wizard of Oz," Marion finished with gusto.

"Finally," Mutt exclaimed.

Then Indy began, "When I was just a little child, I asked my mother—what will I be?"

"You're _joking!"_ Mutt shouted.

Marion added, "Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Here's what she said to me..."

Mutt covered his ears as the duo went on.

"_Que sera, sera_,/ Whatever will be, will be/ The future's not ours to see/ _Que sera, sera."_

"Technically," Indy commented, "It should be a schwa sound, 'kuh,' rather than 'kay.' Since it's a French word, I mean. _Sera_ being the future tense of the verb 'to be...'"

"Oh, details, details," said Marion. "Let's finish the song, shall we?"

"No," Mutt said, but no one listened to him. He suffered through the verse about the sweethearts and the chorus. Then he truly thought he would attack someone when they began the last verse.

"Now I have children of my own/ They ask their mother, what will I be?"

"Will I be handsome?" Indy sang, flashing his eyebrows at Marion.

Mutt thought he might lose his lunch. When at last the ordeal was over, he said, "Will you _please_ not sing anymore of those... painful excuses for sounds?"

Marion smiled. "You pick the next one, honey."

"Oh, no. I don't sing on command."

"You don't have to...but we'll take requests."

Mutt's scowl slowly turned to a mischievous grin. "Hey, man," he murmured in a low voice, "there goes Mack the Knife..."

"Uh-oh," said Marion.

That was all the encouragement Mutt needed. "Oh, the shark has pretty teeth, dear/ And he shows them... a-pearly-white...."

Indy glanced at Marion. Marion shrugged.

"Just a jackknife has MacHeath, dear," Mutt went on. "And he keeps it out of sight./ When the shark bites..."

"Um, Mutt," Marion said, "I'm not sure that's appropriate..."

"You said I could pick."

"I don't like songs about sharks when there are piranha-infested waters all around us."

"Yeah, well... I don't like cutesy songs about parents and kids and the future when mine's looking so lousy just now. So we're even."

Indy turned back to look at him, surprise and displeasure evident on his face. But then his eyes widened and he said distractedly, "Uh... don't look now, but we've got company."

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_Enjoy the chapter? Leave a review to let me know!_


	14. A Whip and a Prayer

_I was able to learn more about the Kayapó people, and as I feared, my geography is a bit off. For the sake of the story, I am going to use this tribe anyway, since there is more info on them than on most other indigenous South American tribes. Please keep in mind that this story takes place 50 years ago when the Kayapó were less friendly to outsiders and considered a warlike people._

_For your edification, pronunciation: Kayapó (Ky-uh-poh) Xingu (Shing-goo)._

_**Ellen**__, Marion's checking your references. ;) Thanks for the review!_

_**Brittaney**__, yes, Mutt could use a change in perspective...and perhaps taste in music. But as I said last time, I __**wanted**__ him to break into "Splish Splash," but it wasn't written yet. :(_

_**Ecri**__, thanks so much for your compliments. I'm glowing here._

_**Noukinav018**__, lol, thanks for reading and don't worry—I'm not a fan of the UFO thing. :p_

_Thanks to everyone else reading and reviewing! You're great!_

.

A WHIP and a PRAYER

.

No one listened to Indy, of course—they all looked.

"Don't do anything sudden," Indy instructed. "We haven't done anything to them—they might just decide to leave us alone. Face forward and keep walking."

"Do you know what tribe they are?" Mutt asked, sounding nervous.

"Kayapó, if I'm not mistaken," Ox supplied.

"Oh," Mutt said.

Indy glanced back at him. He knew Mutt was remembering the broken arrow in the pampas deer's leg. Dropping back beside him, Indy said quietly, "If we end up having to run for it, I'm not going to have much speed."

Mutt nodded. "Can we fight them?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure? There aren't that many..."

"Oh? How many did you see?"

Sounding a little less sure of himself, Mutt said, "I don't know...about a half dozen."

"That's what they wanted you to see."

"You don't have to make me feel incompetent."

"Even if we weren't hopelessly outnumbered, they have bows and arrows. We have swords, a knife and a bullwhip. We're not going to get too far with those."

"What do they want with us?"

"Maybe nothing."

"You think they're following us?"

Indy didn't want to worry the kid, but there was no sense in being unrealistic. "Well, if we're as close to Rio Branco as I hope we are, I can't imagine what else the Kayapó would be doing so far from the Xingu River Basin."

"No chance this _is_ the Xingu River?"

"I sure hope not. That would put us on the other side of the country, almost."

Marion glanced back. "Indy, they're getting closer."

"I said to face forward," Indy grumbled. To Mutt, he said, "You walk ahead with the others. If I say run, run. Take your mom up the river. If you follow it far enough, you should see Rio Branco to the right."

"What about you? You can't be so delusional that you think you can hold them off."

"Maybe not, but I might be able to distract them a bit."

"Do you speak their language?"

"I don't speak any of the Akwén Gê dialects."

"I guess that's a no." Mutt frowned, obviously growing more anxious by the minute. "I don't suppose any of them would know English?"

"It's doubtful. Listen—" Indy put a hand firmly on Mutt's shoulder. "Can I count on you to take orders? There might not be time for you to think it through when I tell you to do something."

Mutt seemed to lean away from Indy's hand a little, but he didn't shake it off. He swallowed. "I'll try," he said.

"OK. Up the river. Rio Branco is..."

"On the right," Mutt finished.

Indy handed his sword to Mutt. "Pass that on to Ox and let your mother carry your knife."

Once that direction was followed, Indy said quietly but firmly, "All right, this is it. Go."

Mutt seemed surprised that the moment of action had come so soon, but he hesitated only a moment. He took his mother by the arm and urged her and Ox into a run.

Indy stopped walking. He turned around and watched the brightly painted warriors—twelve of them—stepping toward him from the cover of the bush mere yards away.

Having very few options, Indy tried proclaiming his good intentions in Amazonian Spanish. When the natives continued approaching with no apparent recognition of his words, Indy tried one of the few greetings he knew in Portuguese: "Welcome; how are you?" This also seemed to do little.

Indy took a few careful steps backward. He kept his hands low, the palms open to show a non-aggressive attitude.

The closest Kayapó were murmuring quietly to each other now. A few gestured wildly in the direction the others had run. Then the group split. Half ran on down the riverbank while the rest drew a tight circle around Indy.

"Oh, boy," Indy muttered to himself. "Run, kid. Run."

The nocked arrows of the warriors were pointed at the ground, but Indy knew that any change in his own stance might bring them up to level on his heart. The closest two men slung their bows over their shoulders and stepped forward to take Indy by the arms. He noticed that they kept a respectful distance between themselves and the bullwhip at his side. Their firm grip was not a painful one.

One of the warriors who was less painted than the others stepped forward and said in broken Portuguese, "Good day, sir."

Indy enjoyed a moment of deep relief. The Kayapó were not the sort to tease victims. Surely the greeting was sincere. Still, since the common language was little understood on either side, he would be hard-pressed to figure out what they wanted. "Thank you," he answered.

The man who had spoken turned to communicate with the rest of the party in their Gê dialect. Then he returned his gaze to Indy. "Come," he said, again in Portuguese.

Indy nodded. All he could do for the moment was be agreeable. He allowed himself to be led along the river in the direction the others had run.

The trees were beginning to thin. Indy did his best to limp along quickly without making his limp obvious. He didn't need his captors to know how handicapped he was at the moment.

As they broke out of the jungle, Indy's confidence took a dive. About an eighth of a mile ahead, the Indians were running toward the riverbank where, apparently, his companions had entered the water.

"I told him to head for the town," Indy grumbled under his breath. He could see smoke from cooking fires in Rio Branco coming from over a rise.

The Kayapó were quite captivated by the scene before them. A few began shouting to the group that had run ahead.

A man of impulse, Indy recognized this as the best distraction he was likely to get. He jerked his right arm free and threw his fist at the native on his left. He then darted toward the river, uncoiling his whip as he went.

One good crack of the whip was enough to slow his pursuers to a cautious jog. Then it was into the chest-deep river.

There was indeed a dam ahead, not far in front of Marion and the others. Indy told himself that a dam would lower the chance of meeting piranhas in the water and prayed that he was right. (_Why did Marion have to bring them up?_) He tried to remember whether the Rio Acre connected with the Rio Paraguai (a river _known_ to contain piranhas) at any point.

Looking upriver, Indy could see his companions climbing out on the southern bank. They appeared to be all right. The warriors nearest them were now entering the water. Mutt led the way up toward the dam. He was shouting something, but Indy couldn't hear what he said.

The far bank was just a few feet away when Indy again looked up the river to see Mutt climbing up on top of the dam, closely followed by Ox and Marion. Their antagonists were just over midway through the river.

"I've got a bad feeling about this..." Indy muttered. As his eyes confirmed his fears, he scrambled frantically for the riverbank. "Holy Moses."

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_And you thought I was done with cliff-hangers! Hee hee. :p Please leave a review if you're still having fun. __:)_

_Anyway, once again, I have no idea whether there is a dam near Rio Branco or not. Also, there are several South American rivers which contain piranhas, but I determined that the Rio Paraguai is the closest (I __**think**__...) to the Rio Acre. Whether or not they connect, I'm not sure. I could probably figure it out, but I'm...lazy. Yup._

_Want to know something really ironic? After I started this thing I found a Youtube video... Search for "Harrison Ford: Lost there felt here" and you should find it. It's hysterical, and even funnier when you think of it in light of this story. :D_


	15. Far From Home

_Truth be told, Placido de Castro is more likely to be the town that our heroes would come to first by following the Rio Acre, but since my history and geography are already shaky...not going to worry about it at this point!_

_**Kat1021**__, as if I would kill off my heroes. :p_

_**Haninator**__, welcome aboard! Surveys as in what's-your-favorite-color type of survey? That could be fun. Glad you're enjoying the story._

_**Ellen**__, Marion thinks she needs to meet your mother. *roll eyes* Thanks for the review! :D_

_**Brittaney**__, glad you appreciated that. Hope you enjoy the next chapter._

_Thanks to everyone else reading and reviewing! :)_

_Mutt, Ox, Marion and Indy are not my characters. The dam is entirely mine, since you will probably not find anything like it on the whole length of the Rio Acre! (Though Mutt seems to think he has a claim on it now...whatever.)_

.

FAR FROM HOME

.

"Ox!" Mutt shouted as they ran along the northern riverbank, "What kind of dam is that?"

"This is hardly the time," Ox panted.

"Does it have a...whaddya call it—a floodgate?"

"It looks to be a bulkhead gate, to be precise."

"Whatever! Come on, I've got a plan. But we need to cross the river."

"Are you sure?" Marion asked. "Don't we want to stay on this side to get to Rio Branco?"

Mutt felt a little guilty to be deviating from Indy's instructions, but he was sure of his plan. "Mom, trust me! Come on, into the water." He kept one arm entwined with hers to steady her as they entered the murky water.

"Oh, this is so disgusting," Marion whined as they sank immediately to their waists and then waded deeper. "We'll have so many diseases by the time we get home..."

Mutt threw a look back over his shoulder. The Indians were running down to the riverbank. "Hurry up, Ox, we need to get out fast!"

Ox was attempting a side stroke which was much hampered by his clothing.

When they gained the opposite bank, Mutt gave his mother a boost out of the water and she turned to help him up. Then they both pulled Ox out behind them.

Indy was in the water now, Mutt noticed before turning toward the dam. That could be good—but if he stayed in too long, it might ruin everything.

"Come on," Mutt yelled, seeing that their would-be captors were not far behind them. He led Ox and Marion up onto the narrow catwalk above the dam. "Help me out, Ox—how do we open it?"

"It works by machinery," Ox replied, going to take hold of a wooden crank handle. "This is a very primitive sort of sluice gate—it has several sections to be raised individually..."

"The press version, Ox! Please!"

"Grab a ruddy handle and crank!"

Mutt did as he was told. Marion went to the third crank and they all turned their handles feverishly.

As he worked, Mutt watched Indy's progress. He was at the southern bank now, trying to find a hold to climb up out of the riverbed.

"Come on, old man," he whispered. "Get out of there."

The nearest Indians had already lost their footing in the sudden torrent of water and were being swept downstream. Those even with Indy were picking which side they were closer to in order to escape being washed away.

"Come _on_," Mutt said aloud this time. "Come on, come on, come on..."

He could see Indy shaking out his whip. The high wave of water was nearly to him now. The whip snaked out and wrapped around a sturdy shrub a few feet away. Indy dragged his upper body onto the bank as the water tried to pull his legs back in.

Then he was free of the river and the three on the bulkhead breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"He made it," Mutt said quietly. He realized he was shaking.

Marion wrapped her arms firmly around his soaked form. "It worked! You did it, honey!"

"Yeah... I can't believe it..."

"Well done," Ox said heartily. "Let's go collect the old boy, shall we?"

The "old boy" was a bit rattled, but seemed physically intact when they met him.

"Let's get to Rio Branco," Indy said, silencing all inquiries about his well-being. "They've had a setback, but they'll be hot on our trail in no time if they really want us—and it sure seemed like they did."

Mutt knew he was probably going to get yelled at sooner or later, so he drifted away from Ox and Marion to walk by Indy again.

"That was a pretty bull-headed risk you took," Indy commented.

"I know."

"Supposing the Kayapó had decided to cross the river over the dam and cut you off? You'd have been trapped in the water."

That idea hadn't occurred to Mutt. "Oh... well... I figured they'd follow us."

"You're some lucky you figured right."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I told you to make for the town."

"I know—but you didn't know about the dam—"

"Actually," Indy interrupted, "I suspected there was one. But you're right: I didn't know what kind. And if I had, I would probably have approved your plan."

"So... wait. You're saying it was a good idea?"

"I'm saying it was a brilliant idea. You think on your feet—like a soldier. An ambitious one that gets promotions."

Mutt didn't know what to say. No one had ever commended him like that before. It didn't help his eloquence at all that one of the few memories he had of his stepfather was of Collin calling him "Soldier" sometimes. "Thanks," he managed at last. Then he added, "But yeah, if they _had_ gone over the bridge—I mean, it's really narrow, but I don't see why they wouldn't have tried it."

"Well, the Kayapó are a bit suspicious of us—of outsiders. They probably wouldn't have trusted it."

They crossed the dam back to the northern side of the river and retrieved the swords and jaguar-hide pack from the place they had dropped them before entering the water. Then they continued quickly toward the city.

It was full dark by the time they reached it.

"City lights never looked so good," Indy said.

"I'll say," Mutt agreed.

It didn't take Indy long to find someone who spoke Spanish (rather than the official language, Portuguese), and from this helpful man they got directions to the Santa Juliana Hospital.

All four travelers had some need for medical attention. When the Brazilian doctor treated the scratches on his leg and the cut on his face, Mutt was glad that his mother was far down another hallway, and couldn't hear him yell. He couldn't imagine the pain Indy was experiencing from the lesions on his leg.

They stayed overnight at the hospital. Sleeping in a real bed felt luxurious after so many nights in the jungle. And yet, Mutt felt a little disappointed. Life in Chicago would certainly seem dull after this.

.

.

Much of the next morning was spent trying to find transportation. Indy still had a little money that had survived the ordeal of jungle, waterfall, etc., but it wouldn't get them far, and certainly not in style.

"This is the best we're likely to find," Indy said after talking in Spanish with a truck driver. "This man is driving to Puerto Maldonado. From there we can get to Cuzco some way, and then Nazca."

"And then home!" Marion finished.

"One step at a time," Indy said. "But we'll get there."

"I suppose we'll be riding on some crazy cargo—goats or something."

"Nope; fruit."

"Oh, well all right, then."

Mutt nibbled a piece of dried peccary meat. He wondered whether his mother was planning to head right back to Chicago when they returned to the States. He also wondered if Indy intended to return to Connecticut. If Indy and Marion had any plans to continue their relationship, someone would have to bring up the topic of destinations pretty soon.

"How long 'til we leave?" Mutt asked.

Indy consulted his watch. "About half an hour."

"Time for Hercules to perform his next task?"

"I think so; he is a hero, after all. What are we up to? The bull was last, right?"

"Yeah." Mutt settled on the ground in the shade of a small shop.

"All right. Then we're on number eight, I believe, which is the mares of Diomedes. They were wild, fire-breathing, man-eating horses that Hercules was supposed to steal from their master, who happened to be a giant."

"Good. Maybe we'll see some action this time."

"There are a couple of versions of this story," Indy said, looking pointedly at Ox, "so I'm just going to tell you the one I prefer."

"OK."

"Hercules found the mares easily enough and cut them loose. But they were wild and wouldn't just let him lead them away. The giant was coming to stop him, so Hercules chased the mares out onto a peninsula and dug a trench to keep them from escaping."

"So he turned the peninsula into an island?"

"That's right. While the horses were trapped there, Hercules fought Diomedes. He won, naturally. Then he had to think of a way to calm the horses down so he could take them back to Eurystheus. Care to take a guess at what he did?"

Mutt thought hard, but nothing jumped out at him. He wasn't very familiar with horses. "I don't know."

"He fed Diomedes to them."

"Oh. Cool."

"That's what you call thematic irony."

"Thanks. That's good to know."

"Mutt," Marion chided.

"It's all right," said Indy. "I wasn't thrilled to learn about it from _my_ father either. But when you have a professor of medieval literature for a father, you pick these things up."

It suddenly struck Mutt that through Indy, he had another "side" to his family. "Is your father still alive?" he asked. Surely it was impossible—Indy was so old himself, and the one time he had mentioned his father, it had sounded like the old guy had passed on—but it was worth a shot.

Indy shook his head. "No; I wish he could have met you. That would have been... something."

"Oh. Sorry. What about... brothers and sisters?"

"I _would_ have a sister. But she died."

"Sorry again."

"It's OK."

Mutt cleared his throat. "So. Um, what happened to the horses?"

"They stayed tame and wandered around Argos. Eurystheus dedicated them to Hera."

"You mean they didn't try to eat anyone anymore? That's boring." Mutt glanced at the others and noticed that Ox was staring out toward the jungle. "What's eating you, Ox?"

Ox frowned. "Nothing yet," he said mysteriously. "It just perplexes me: what ever did those Kayapó want with us anyway? They're quite far from home."

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_Enjoy the chapter? Please leave a review! :D_

_I'm not sure if the Santa Juliana Hospital would be the closest one for them to find, or whether it was built in the 1950's, or even what sort of hospital it is (the only info I could find was in Spanish or Portuguese, and I am not fluent in either, alas). But I was pretty proud of myself for finding a real hospital in Rio Branco, so cut me some slack. :p_


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